


Two Birds, One Cell

by Spoon888



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Drama & Fluff, Dysfunctional Relationships, M/M, Mech Preg, Medical Procedures, Megatron Needs To Answer His Comm-Link And Pick Up His Damn Seeker Already, Ratchet is NOT a Decepticon Relationship Counsellor, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2019-10-11 06:51:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 55,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17442011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: An injured Starscream is rescued by the Autobots post-battle, but when Ratchet checks him over for internal injuries, he learns the number of Decepticons held prisoner in the Ark... has just doubled.And getting rid of them both is easier said than done.





	1. Chapter 1 Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little intro for now. I had several thoughts on how I'd write this fic, so I hope I chose the right one.

Repairing Decepticons was probably Ratchet's least favourite part of the job, knowing full well the murderous fiends would be up and shooting down his friends again in no time. But the alternative was allowing a mech to suffer knowing full well he had the power to alleviate it. Part of him wanted to botch the repairs though, so perhaps next time they'd be a little slower, their aim not so sure.

He glanced at Starscream's face, smooth, youthful, almost handsome in his unconscious state. That infamous sneer of his aged him, and given how vain he was Ratchet found it surprising he'd go around pulling such unflattering expressions.

He certainly wouldn't be happy when he woke and found the paint stripped entirely from his left arm.

"At least you still _have_ an arm," he told the oblivious seeker prematurely, injecting his main fuel line with a boost of self-repair nanites to take care of the superficial scratches marring his back and wings, where the river he'd crashed into had dragged him across the rocks.

If Hound hadn't dived in after him he'd probably have been carried out to sea by now. Might have even made it back to his own base.

Ratchet allowed himself a small snort of amusement, still aware that it wasn't really funny. A life was a life, and Starscream may be a nightmare, but he probably deserved better than his frame turning into one of those barnacle ridden fish habitats at the bottom of the ocean.

Besides, it had been his weapon that had shot the blasted seeker and sent him careening out of the sky in the first place. He couldn't afford to feel guilty, not over Decepticons.

There wasn't much left to do now, so he began slipping Starscream's limp wrists into the restraints. He yanked the straps to tighten them, then glanced at the seeker's dark face and felt awash with guilt. He loosened them a fraction, only because he knew this one was loud and he couldn't tolerate the complaints.

Fuel levels were good enough, sensors were responding well, there was a something not quite right about estimated consumption rate though. Seekers guzzled fuel but the current level of Starscream's tanks should have been able to tide him over till morning, not half that time.

There wasn't a leak in the tank. He'd checked every fuel line with methodical detail, and he didn't make mistakes.

Grumbling to himself about why Starscream had to be such a difficult patient before he'd even regained consciousness, Ratchet dug out his heavy duty scanner and passed it over the Decepticon's frame. The readout flooded the screen, but Ratchet's keen optics caught _it_ as soon as it appeared.

_Gestation: 12%_

Ratchet looked between the readout and Starscream's limp form, wondering if he'd somehow scanned the wrong patient, or received the wrong readout, or-

He trusted his own servos better than he did any machinery. He tossed the scanner aside and loosened Starscream's restraints further, not wanting any unnessary strain in case... Well...

Twelve percent was still early days, and no self respecting medic would open a spark chamber and expose a new-spark to the harsh conditions of an alien atmosphere. Instead he went for Starscream's abdomen, pressing against the armour either side of Starscream's cockpit swell. Frames as compact as seeker's tended to visually display their condition, but it was still too early. Ratchet was unsure if what he was feeling was really an expanding gestation chamber.

He went to Starscream's groin, manually flicking the panel away. Normally he wouldn't conduct an examination like this on an unconscious patient, but the severity of Starscream's injuries meant his second patient was at risk. If they existed.

"Sorry Screamer," he said gruffly, feeling the need to apologise anyway, settling down between two glossy white thighs and slipping his speculum into place. Through the opening he created he slid a sample collector, a long thin tube designed to slip easily into the tiny opening that separated valve from gestation chamber.

Just as quickly he withdrew his equipment, closing Starscream's panel and restoring his dignity before taking the gestation sample for review. Normally he'd expect to find the usual dormant materials lining the chamber, and perhaps the odd bit of foreign substance (transfluid) from... _wherever_. 

He slipped the sample under the microscope and barely had to squint through the lens to know the inner workings of Starscream's gestation chamber was very busy indeed. Building nanites were buzzing around on the glass slab, as though confused with the sudden lack of materials to tear down and reconstruct as a whole new being.

Ratchet straightened away from the microscope, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Behind him Starscream was still unconscious, oblivious.

Ratchet shook his helm, wondering what Starscream was doing going into battle in such a state, and what that bolt-licking idiot Megatron had been  _thinking_ for letting him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
"Starscream is _what_?"

"Sparked." Ratchet repeated, glaring at the gathered high command. "You know, knocked up? Fuelling for two? In a _family way_?"

"Ratchet, please," Optimus held up a servo, looking disturbed.

"I want him _out_." Ratchet continued. "He can't be here. Call Megatron and tell him to pick up his second in command. I'll even throw in some free prophylactics."

"It may not be that simple," Optimus began.

"Despite Starscream's high rank he has proven notoriously difficult to return in the past." Prowl filled in darkly, folding his servos on the table in front of him. "He and Megatron's personal differences seem to play into it."

"We think he gets mad at Screamer for getting captured in the first place." Jazz added for clarity.

Ratchet was getting a processor-ache. "Then _remind_ Megatron that Starscream wasn't captured but rescued. And is _sparked_."

"Who sends a carrying mech into battle in the first place?!" Jazz then exclaimed, throwing his arms up. "It's not like we're swimming in new-sparks."

"Perhaps he didn't know." Prowl's frown deepened.

"That's unlikely-" Ratchet began.

"But possible." Optimus interrupted. "And to err on the side of caution wouldn't it be best if we didn't mention it?"

"But we want _rid of him_." Ratchet argued. "He cannot be here. Carrying is stressful, and seekers are bad at coping with stress. They get all worked up and- well, you've  _seen_ those idiots in battle."

"Tellin' me," Ironhide snorted, amused.

Ratchet ignored him. "Who cares if Megatron wants him back or not. Set him loose in the woods for all I care, but he cannot be _here_. I am not going to be _Starscream's_ pre-natal medic! You hear me?! I'm not doing it!"

Optimus sighed.

"Alright. Have Starscream placed somewhere comfortable for now. I'll see what we can do."

 

* * *

 

Someone had tucked an insulation sheet around Starscream, tight, claustrophobic. He kicked it away in frustration, listening to it flutter to the floor. Systems began to flicker online, a status report flinging itself to the forefront.

_Self-repair: 83%. Fuel Consumption: Poor. Fuel Reserve: 12%_

He groaned. No wonder he felt so groggy. He needed to refuel.

He blinked his optics online, then wished he hadn't.

Bright orange walls seared his visual sensors. He shut them down with a curse, servos flying to his optics. Orange meant Autobots. And Autobots meant he was a prisoner.

He drew his servos back, finding it unusual that he wasn't cuffed. The room was warm, and set out like a standard hab-suite, with walls and furniture. Had the Autobots redecorated their brig to make it more homely?! What was _wrong_ with them?

He swung his legs off the berth. Once the bizarre set-up of his cell ceased surprising him, he noticed the state of his armour.

"Urgh," he cried, flinging his own arm away from himself. The glossy paint had been stripped completely away, primer and all, leaving scuffed, re-welded, bare metal, dull grey and uneven. Only the tips of his digits were still blue, and most of the paint on the left side of his torso and shoulder had been scuffed off too.

Wonderful, he was going to have to get a full repaint when he returned.

If Megatron even _let_ him return.

Last time he'd been a guest of the Autobots he'd been stuck with them for nearly a month, Megatron claiming he was 'refusing to bend to Autobot demands', when in reality he had probably been enjoying a nice little reprieve.

Starscream bounced a little on his berth. The metal groaned under his weight, but the slab was comfortable, nothing that was going to upset his wings if he spent a month on it. Or more.

Perhaps it was for the best the Autobots had improved their accommodations. Megatron hadn't spoken to him properly for over a week now, not since he'd accidentally stepped on that 'vital human scientist' that Megatron had been coming up with some super genius plot with. Well, to be fair the silent treatment started sometime after that, when he'd made a few comments about Megatron's leadership skills, and then admitted that stepping on the scientist hadn't really been an accident at all.

Not to mention what had happened between them before the raid...

The door to his cell pinged, and it didn't sound like the high security locking mechanism usually installed into cell doors. It sounded like a welcoming chime, that someone cheery would have on the door to their home.

He stood, ready to show these Autobot why it was never a good idea to leave a seeker unrestrained.

The door swept away with the pleasant swoosh of a well oiled mechanism to reveal the grouchy Autobot medic, Ratchet, holding a discoloured cube. Starscream's appetite disappeared with a swoop of nausea.

Ratchet stopped in the doorway, frown deepening. "You shouldn't be up yet."

"Sorry to disappoint." Starscream sneered, knowing he had _him_ to thank for the hideous state of his armour.

Ratchet held the cube aloft questioningly, "Are you going to behave like a good little Decepticon and let me give this to you, or am I going to have to sedate you again?"

Starscream's tanks rolled at the thought of drinking the pale cube. "I'm not drinking that."

"It's low-grade." Ratchet glared.

"Precisely." Starscream leant back against the frame of his berth and crossed his arms, olfactory sensor in the air. "Bring me anything but a real cube and you'll find yourself wearing it."

Ratchet shrugged and slammed the cube on the table beside the door with far more force than necessary. "Starve then."

He stepped out and the door shut behind him.

Starscream glared. Well that hadn't gone at all how he'd hoped.

 

* * *

 

When Starscream's fuel reserves dropped below five percent he was forced to concede. No one returned to replace the disgusting low-grade with something richer, and he wasn't about to degrade himself by making a fuss over it. The Autobots would use any weakness against him, including a picky palette. For now he was going to have choke it back and toughen up.

It truly was disgusting, the near tasteless remains stuck to his denta and in the back of his throat. Just the thought of it sitting in his tanks was enough to set off his gag reflex. He sat on the floor next to his berth, knees drawn up to his chest, trying to find a position that didn't send his tank into further turmoil.

Was it some alternative form of Autobot torture, low-grade laced with nausea inducing chemicals? What had that medic _given_ him?!

His chrono ticked over into the evening and the door pinged again, that annoyingly happy little tune. Furious, Starscream stood, ready to give what for. But the sharp movement jostled his tank and he doubled over, clutching his own knees and moaning as a harsh wave of sickness came over him.

The door opened silently, so he was only aware of Ratchet's return when the Autobot exclaimed, "Don't you dare purge on that floor!"

Starscream actively reengaged his gag reflex just so he _could_ empty his tanks all over Ratchet's pedes.

There was a slam as another cube of low-grade was set down, then rough servos on his shoulders pushing him up to sit him on the end of his berth. He regained control of his tanks and limbs fast enough to snarl and swipe at the medic, and felt the satisfying drag of his claws slicing through armour.

Ratchet hissed and cursed, and was at the other end of the room and out the door within seconds. It whooshed shut, leaving Starsceram alone with his low-grade.

Definitely torture.

 

* * *

 

Optimus looked up when Ratchet came storming in, frowning when he glimpsed the pink of fresh energon staining the cloth pressed to his cheek.

He stood, "Ratchet-?"

"Starscream. Who else?" Ratchet snapped, "Tricked me into thinking he was rejecting the fuel, lured me in."

Optimus nodded and decided not to pass comment. Ratchet knew better than anyone how violent even the most docile of carriers could be. It stood to reason Starscream would cause as much trouble as he possibly could.

"When is that Bucket-helmed Glory going to take him back?" Ratchet asked, drawing the cloth away from his cheek, revealing four slim cuts of varying lengths where Starscream had caught him. They didn't look too deep.

Optimus sighed, "I'm afraid we haven't managed to make contact."

Ratchet's arms dropped heavily to the table.

" _What_." His tone was low and gravelly.

"Our attempts at hailing the _Nemesis_ have so far proved futile. They are either ignoring our calls or too busy to answer-"

"Or throwing a damn 'Carrying-Starscream's Not Our Problem Anymore' party." Ratchet grumbled.

Optimus hummed. "We will keep trying. I'm sure they will answer before morning."

"Great." Ratchet muttered, "A night with Starscream..."

Optimus felt awash with sympathy. "You take on too much responsibility. There are others capable of refuelling Starscream-"

"And if I go to recharge and wake up tomorrow to learn that idiot seeker really did reject his fuel in the night?" Ratchet shook his helm, optics steely and determined. "He's sparked. As long as he's here, he's my responsibility. I couldn't live with it if something happened."

Optimus gripped his friend's shoulder, firm and reassuring. "You'll remember to recharge yourself?"

"I'll recharge when he's gone."

 

* * *

 

Reserve levels trickled down, but Starscream didn't think his tanks could face another cube of sub-par, watered down swill. The malicious medic must have given him something, or compromised him in some way, because despite the energy preserving low-grade being forced on him, his frame was consuming it quickly. Perhaps he had retained a leak from his crash, and Ratchet hadn't bothered to fix it properly. Typical Autobots.

It was well past midnight, and once again Starscream was running on the dregs of his tank. The low-grade sat where it had been dumped, untouched, and too tired to be mutinous, Starscream was near despair. He let his chin drop to his knees, optics shuttering off, and was forced have some appreciation for the Autobot's new attitude towards war-prisoner welfare. He'd much rather be rebelliously cuffed in a cell, than subdued and miserable in a comfy little room.

The door pinged, and knowing it would be that hateful medic, Starscream kept his helm turned away and optics offlined.

Pedefalls, a curse, the slam of _another_ cube Starscream wasn't going to drink-

"Give me one good reason not to force this down your miserable neck!?"

Starscream flicked an optic online. Ratchet was stood, fuming by the door, a servo braced against the table where the cubes were waiting. Starscream was pleased to see the marks on the medic's cheek, lingering damage from his swipe. He hoped they stung.

He lifted a servo to wriggle sharp claws in a threatening mockery of a wave. "I can think of ten."

"I can have those clipped, you know."

Starscream curled his servo into a fist, resentfully hiding them away. "I'm not drinking your _poison_ , Autobot. I won't be complicit to my own torture."

"You really are a drama queen." Ratchet snarled, picking up the fresher cube and bravely crossing the room. Starscream quickly rose to his pedes, his fuel-conservation systems at war with his sense of self preservation. He stumbled, and like lightening his wrist was grabbed and he was tugged upright before he could tumble over the berth.

The cube clacked against his chest.

"Drink it." The soft blue of Autobot optics had never looked so cold. Ratchet was deadly serious. "If not for your sake, then think of the new-spark."

Starscream didn't take the cube. " _What_ new-spark?"

"I'm not playing this game with you, Starscream." Ratchet pressed the cube closer, insistent. "I know about your sparkling, and unlike you it's an innocent in all this so-"

Starscream's own limbs revolted against him, and a flailing arm slapped the cube from his chest and sent it wheeling into the air. The energon splattered in a long strip across the floor and the cube smashed. Ratchet jumped.

" _What. Sparkling_?!" Starscream demanded, throwing his wings wide, shoulders squared.

Surprise, rather than fear, rose in Ratchet. He took a step back, voice perfectly even. "You're carrying, Starscream."

"I am not!" Starscream snarled. First the fuel and now mind games?! The Autobots really had improved their game. "I can't be!"

"Starscream-" Ratchet tried, gentler now.

" _Lies_!" Starscream continued, not wanting to give him chance to spin further deceptions. He was under-fuelled and confused, and perfectly susceptible to psychological manipulation. "You're lying! You think I wouldn't know if I- if I had a-!"

"You're sparked, you stupid brat!" Ratchet interupted with a sharp bellow, temper flying off the handle."Two weeks into a gestation! I have the readouts-!"

"Plagiarised!"

Ratchet raised a threatening fist, "I'll show _you_ plagiarised-!"

"Aha!" Starscream exclaimed, pointing, "No self respecting medic would lay his hands on a carrier-"

" _Any_ self-respecting medic would make an exception for _you_!" Ratchet flung his arms down, as angry at himself for his temper as he was for Starscream inciting it. He activated his comm.

"Ironhide!"

" _Receiving_."

"I need a guard escort to get Starscream to the medbay. Now."

" _Gotcha_."

Starscream sneered and backed away, looking for something stable to cling to for when they tried to drag him off. "You'll need more than an escort! You think I'm going to let you drag me off to your experiments willingly?! I'd like to see you pathetic Autobots try!"

Ratchet just arched a smug brow, helm tilting. "Oh, I don't think you'll put up much of a fight at all."

Starscream locked his arms around the end post of his berth frame, half leaning against it as his fuel reserves dropped, and dropped. "Arrogance..." He hissed.

"Maybe," Ratchet growled. "Or maybe I know this little tantrum you're throwing just used up the last of your fuel reserves?"

Starscream felt his optics begin to shutter, his vision darkening. He lifted a digit to flip the medic a rude gesture, but his arm flopped lifelessly as his frame began shutting down non-vital hardware, one by one.

His audials were one of the last to go, so he heard Ratchet's quiet sigh of, 'poor kid' as strange arms lifted him and began to carry him away.

He wondered if Ratchet was sympathising with him, or this supposed sparkling.

 

* * *

 

Deja vu struck Ratchet when he once again found himself standing over Starscream's unconscious form. He kept the seeker's wrists out of the restraints this time, knowing the weak sack of spare parts wouldn't have the energy to mutter a curse at him, let alone leap up and gut him.

He glanced at those deadly claws anyway, wondering how much indignant screaming there would be if he really did give Starscream a more practical manicure. Another time maybe, pay back for his next inevitable tantrum. For now he needed to get him back into shape.

First came the unpleasant business of refuelling Starscream- disconnecting the gullet-tube from his intake and attaching a funnel through which to feed the fuel. It was a long and boring process, but dumping an entire cube down all at once would only trigger the manual purging override. And that was _not_ happening in Ratchet's nice clean medbay, thank you.

Tanks now at ninety eight percent, high enough to delay the next Starscream-refuelling-tantrum by many hours, Ratchet moved onto the next problem.

The delusion.

He waited for Starscream to come back around naturally, entertaining himself with a datafile on frame-type medical differentiation he'd managed to dig out of storage. There was a chapter on 'compact flight frames and the challenges of cross-coding gestation' which was interesting. Seekers had a reputation for being exceptional physical specimens, but were, as he already knew, bad at efficiently producing offspring. Doubly so if they chose a sire that was anything but a mini-bot or another compatible seeker.

Ratchet couldn't see someone with Starscream's attitude towards 'ground pounders' taking anyone but another seeker to berth, so that was one less thing to worry about.

His reading was interrupted by a low, dramatic groan beside him. He flipped the datapad down and peered at Starscream's squinting, confused little face. "Welcome back."

"Sadist..." Starscream murmured, a weak servo drifting to his abdomen, no doubt noticing his fuel tank. "I'm going to purge-"

Ratchet stood up. "Don't you dare."

Starscream shuttered his optics and shook his helm, "No, I'm-"

He rose suddenly, optics bright with alarm. Ratchet snatched the nearest bucket, upending it and letting spare parts crash loudly to the floor before cramming it at Starscream's chest.

Just in time.

Ratchet let him get on with it, picking up his scanner and moving behind Starscream, watching him buck and shake miserably as all the fuel Ratchet had spent the last _hour_ pouring into him came up with a vengeance. He rubbed Starscream's back, between his wings, out of simple habit.

"You- bastard-" Starscream managed, head still buried in the bucket.

Ratchet let him have that one. "Low-grade isn't agreeing with you then."

"I told-!" Starscream's angry indignity was interupted by further retching. Ratchet gave him another comforting rub, tutting.

"Concentrate on purging your guts out, moron." He advised, "You can argue with me when you're done."

He needed to run a few tests on the quality of the energon already rushing through Starscream's frame. Clearly there was some sort of imbalance going on if his tank was rejecting low-grade. He wasn't about to give Starscream regular mid-grade he would only burn through in a matter of hours just to offer an easy solution.

He was interrupted in readying a syringe to remove a smidgen of energon from Starscream's main fuel-line when the sharp rap of knuckles against the doorframe drew his attention. A sheepish Optimus was stood there.

Starscream's helm lifted a fraction, peaking over the rim of his bucket, and he released a mournfully embrassed noise which, thanks to the bucket, echoed loudly about the medbay. Ratchet sympathised. He wouldn't appreciate the leader of the enemy faction poking his helm around the doorway to witness him in the process of uncontrollable vomiting either.

"I heard there was a problem." Optimus began, making to step in.

"It's _under control_." Ratchet responded, shooing him with a wave, perhaps a little too harshly, but he wanted Starscream docile so he could run clean tests, not thrashing and ranting and working himself up because Optimus Prime had to check up on them.

"I'd go before he chucks that bucket if I were you." He added.

Optimus blinked, only just spotting how threateningly Starscream was holding his bucket- and Starscream was well known for having exceptional aim. Optimus nodded hastily, "I'll-"

"Just go." Ratchet used Starscream's distraction to stick him with the needle and draw a sample. "I'll be at the morning brief."

Optimus nodded hastily, disappearing just as Starscream jumped and started twisting to see what Ratchet was doing.

"I _knew_ it." He glared when he saw the syringe. "Experimentation."

"I need to know what's making you purge."

" _You_ are!" Starscream snarled, and apparently done being sick, he let the bucket thunk to the floor with an unpleasant slosh. "You and your _poisons_ -!"

Ratchet loaded the vial of energon he'd taken into the centrifuge and set it spinning. "You're not being _poisoned_ , you're sparked! Do I need to check your audials too?!"

Starscream met his gaze, cold and stubborn. "Prove it." He snarled.

The centrifuge would be spinning for a few minutes anyway. Ratchet might as well kill the time proving what a idiot Starscream was.

"Panel open." He ordered, picking up the spectrum. "This might feel a little cold..."

 

* * *

 

One very unpleasant examination later, and Ratchet plonked Starscream down on the seat in front of the microscope. He had been given his own gestation-sample, Ratchet insisting he held it so he wouldn't be able to turn around afterwards and say the results had been switched. Starscream scowled and checked over the equipment, making sure the lens was clear, and that he really would be looking through it into his own sample.

He flashed Ratchet one last venomous look before slipping the sample in and looking through the lens.

He wasn't a medic, but he had taken advanced cyberology as part of his science courses at the academy. He adjusted the strength of the lens, focusing on dozens of tiny busy nanites, the sort that would have been dormant in an empty gestation chamber. The sort that wouldn't be online if their host _wasn't_ gestating.

He shifted in the seat, glancing aside at Ratchet's stern, emotionless face, then ducked and look again, readjusting the lens, but struggling to focus on the nanites anyway.

"Starscream?"

Starscream ignored him, wondering how the medic could have pulled this off. He couldn't be sparked. He couldn't.

"Starscream." Ratchet sounded less patient.

Starscream pushed himself away from the microscope and turned the chair away, unable to meet Ratchet's gaze as shame crept down his spine, and fear filled his chest.

"I can't-"

"You're at thirteen percent now." Ratchet elaborated, and took the back of Starscream's swivel chair to turn him around to face him again. "Which is two weeks."

Starscream didn't want to go through this. He shook his helm. "No."

"Another two and a half months and it'll be here." Ratchet continued, plucking the now separated vial of energon from the centrifuge and peering at it. "So we need to get everything working as it should before you're sent back-"

"What do you care?!" Starscream suddenly snapped, just wanting him to shut up, shut up and stop talking about it.

Ratchet glared at him, lowering the energon "...I don't."

Starscream blew air out of his mouth, disbelieving. "Of course not."

"Do you know who the sire is?" Ratchet asked next, which _really?_

"You _dare_?" Starscream had never felt so insulted, "Of _course_ I know who the sire is! What do you think I am? A communal bicycle?!"

"Another seeker?" Ratchet pressed, undeterred by his indignity.

"Like I'd tell you." Starscream muttered. The last thing he was going to do was tell the fragging Autobots whose sparkling he was carrying. "I wasn't aware how interested you were in who I was clanging. Is it _valuable_ information?"

"We're having trouble getting hold of Megatron." Ratchet continued, like he talked to stroppy knocked-up Decepticons every day. "If we could instead contact the sire personally-"

"You Autobots are idiots." Starscream folded his arms. "I'm telling you nothing. Run whatever insignificant tests you want, _medic_. Just return me to my cell."

Ratchet sighed heavily, "It's not a cell."

"It's orange. It might as well be a cell."

 

* * *

 

"Did you get any recharge?"

Ratchet didn't even lift his head to greet Wheeljack. "I will when I've finished these tests on Starscream's energon. I need to be sure whatever I give him, he can keep it down."

He heard the scrape of a chair being dragged closer. "I heard you were having trouble with him."

Ratchet leaned away from his work to rub at his optics, resetting the filters to refocus them. "He didn't know he was carrying."

"Oh." Wheeljack said after a pause. "... I suppose it explains what he was doing out there."

Ratchet hummed.

"He knows now though, right?"

"I shouted it in his face, Jackie." Ratchet finally glanced at his friend. "So yeah, he knows."

"Bit harsh."

Ratchet dropped his stylus, leaning back in his seat, "Please tell me someone's made contact with the Decepticons?"

"Sorry Ratch'" Wheeljack looked aside. "Jazz is working on sending someone down there, seeing what's going on."

"If Starscream didn't know, none of them will," Ratchet mused aloud, "Which means they won't be in any rush to reclaim Starscream. Megatron's happy to let him stew here with us, knowing we'll repair him and fuel him and keep him until he deigns to recollect him."

"Maybe if someone were to let Starscream's 'condition' slip to one of the Cons? His trine would want him back."

"Prime's made the decision not to reveal Starscream's condition." Ratchet grumbled. "And maybe he's right. If they knew Starscream was with sparkling they might go from one extreme to the other and decide to _besiege_ us."

"Who is the sire anyway? Screamer say?"

"No," Ratchet picked up his stylus and continued the long process of differentiating between what chemicals were present in Starscream's energon, and what was lacking.

"...Would you tell me if you knew?"

"No." Ratchet glanced up. "I don't think I would."

 

* * *

 

Starscream laid on his berth and stared at the hideous orange ceiling. Nausea continued to swirl around his near-empty tank and his intake burned from the abuse of purging. He wondered if he was going to have to resort to being _polite_ to the Autobots just to get a sensor blocker for the gripping pain of strained pumps.

He hated sickness, or anything that weakened him, and that _Prime_ had chosen to appear right when he'd been at his worst. Heat washed through him. It couldn't have been more embarrassing if Megatron had walked in and seen him.

His fists curled.

Megatron.

Megatron, and the dark, coal-like smoulder of his optics, the wicked curl to his smirk, all those charismatically purred _promises_ -

The door pinged -and he swore to Primus he was going to rip that annoying little mechanical bell out of the fragging wall- and it swept open to admit a weary Ratchet, juggling a tray stacked high with a plethora of substances.

Starscream sat up to see better.

"You and your useless frame," Ratchet criticised gruffly, ensuring the door behind him was shut before crossing to the berth and lowering the tray to Starscream's side. "You're not getting enough excess material from your fuel, so here."

Starscream took stock of what he'd been brought. Potassium, magnesium, iron, and _still_ a cube of fragging low-grade. He flicked his digits dismissively, "I don't want it."

"You're eating it." Ratchet loomed and glowered. "All of it. And I'm going to sit here and watch you do it."

Starscream set his jaw.

Ratchet set his.

A staring contest ensued- for all of three seconds before Starscream's tank grumbled.

Ratchet, predictably, caved fist, looking away. Before Starscream could feel smug about it, Ratchet sighed and withdrew something from his subspace. He kept his fist curled around it, hiding it from view. 

"Eat the iron at least. It's your main deficiency."

"You think I'll do as you say because you've asked _nicely_?" Starscream mocked.

"No," Ratchet then revealed what he had hidden in his servo. A rust stick. Starscream's mouth instantly began to water. "I'm going to bribe you with treats. Like a youngling."

It was a jab at his maturity, yes, but Starscream's tanks were groaning with hunger, and he did enjoy rust sticks. Glaring, just to save face, he picked up the liquidated iron and gave it a sip. It slipped down his intake easily, warm and rich, and quickly soothed the turmoil of his turning tanks.

He suddenly felt considerably more hungry.

"I'm not doing this to keep you happy." He made sure to mention, going for the potassium and throwing it back like a shot. "I want more rust sticks."

"Finish it all and I'll think about it."

Starscream polished off the magnesium next, but paused at the low-grade. It's sickly pale colour reminded him of what he'd just emptied from his tanks.

"For the sparkling." Ratchet reminded him, the rust stick dangling just out of reach.

Starscream pinched his nose, shuttered his optics, and downed it in several fast, desperate gulps, thrusting his servo out for the rust stick to wash away the taste.

"Good." Ratchet nodded at the empty tray, watching as Starscream began to gnaw greedily on the spicey treat. "That was good, Starscream."

Starscream snorted at the basic praise. "Bring me more rust sticks." He muttered around it.

 

* * *

 

"Sunny?!" Sideswipe yelled across the mess hall, brandishing an empty box. "I told you to stay outta my rust sticks!"

"I did!" A disembodied, but indignant, voice yelled back.

"Then where _are they_ , Sunny?!" Sideswipe shook the box more vigourously. " _Where?!"_

Ratchet kept his helm low and his optics on his fuel.

"Hey Ratch'," Jazz called a cheery greeting, hoping the distance between them and swinging one leg over the bench Ratchet was sitting at. "You look exhausted, man. Our guest _s_ givin' ya trouble?"

Ratchet made a weak gesture, "He's doing better."

"Yeah, that's cool," Jazz agreed, sounding like he wasn't really listening. "So listen, Prime wants ya on mandatory rest-"

Ratchet brought his hands away from his aching helm and dropped them to the table with a slam. " _Rest?!_ " He barked. "And just who does that idiot think is gonna put up with the _impregnated Decepticon_ we've got clawing at the walls in my absence?"

Jazz lifted his thumbs and smiled. "You're lookin' at 'im."

"You don't know a damn thing about carriers." Ratchet growled, unimpressed. "And aren't you supposed to be figuring out why Megatron's suddenly lost the ability to press the accept button on his communicator?"

"Got Mirage on it," Jazz's smile widened. "C'mon man, you need a break. And you know I'll wake you if Screamer goes into labour or something."

"He's only two weeks into gestation." Ratchet said, exhausted.

"Coulda fooled me. He's pretty cranky."

Ratchet was _well_ aware. He hoped his glare conveyed that to Jazz, but all he got in response was an even brighter smile.

"Fine." He pushed the remainder of his cube away and began to stand. "Just two hours. I'm not missing the brief."

"I'll take care of everything," Jazz rose with him, clasping his arm, "All I gotta do is slide him some fuel right? How hard can it be?"

"Just make sure you have an incentive." Ratchet grumbled.

"Huh?"

" _Treats_." Ratchet called over his shoulder, knowing the sooner he satisfied Prime with an attempt at resting, the sooner he could get back to his real work. "Remember his treats."

 

* * *

 

  
Two hours of restless recharge later and Ratchet wasn't feeling much better. He hadn't received any panicked comms informing him their prisoner was lying in a puddle of his own energon though, so perhaps he could afford to unclench a little. If Starscream could cooperate with _Jazz_ , whose friendly demeanour was annoying at best to an abrasive Decepticon, then this might not be as difficult as he was anticipating it to be.

Optimus was already in the briefing room when he arrived, with Ironhide sat at his side, his huge pedes thrown up into the desk.

"Ratchet," Optimus greeted warmly, optics crinkling above his mask. "You look better-"

"Don't lie, Prime, you're no good at it," Ratchet rolled his optics, taking the seat opposite Ironhide and his raised pedes- his mud caked treads weren't a pleasant sight. "Has Megatron figured out how a comm works?"

Optimus's shoulder's dropped, and Ratchet knew the answer before he'd even opened his mouth. "I'm afraid it has always been Megaton's nature to behave as inconveniently as possible for me."

Ratchet hummed, but it _was_ unusual. Megatron revelled every chance he got to mock Optimus from behind the safety of a communication screen. A sudden thought blossomed in Ratchet's recharge-deprived processor then, that perhaps this wasn't about Megatron ignoring _Optimus_ at all.

His jolt of inspiration was interrupted when Prowl arrived, striding through the doors at precisely twenty seconds before the brief was due to start and not a second later. He shoved Ironhide as he passed, knocking his pedes off the table with a disapproving frown.

Ironhide grumbled under his breath but obediently straightened in his chair.

"Right," Optimus said, optics passing over his gathered command, then stopping at the empty seat. "Where is Jazz?"

Ratchet's spark leapt into his throat. He stood, chair scrapping as for one sickening moment he feared the worst-

Then the door swept open again. And _there_ was Jazz.

Ironhide let out a bellow of a laugh, slapping the table in ecstatic amusement when their miserable saboteur stepped into view, dripping low-grade. He swiped away a drip tracking down his visor, leaving an even messier smear.

"Screamer's _cooperatin_ ' huh?!" He gestured at Ratchet angrily, splattered limbs spraying not only the nearby walls, but Optimus too. Optimus flinched, then slowly looked at his speckled armour, stunned.

A disappointedly scowling Prowl slid a shanix across the table to a grateful Ironhide during the distraction. Ratchet wished he had been in on that bet.

"You didn't give him a rust stick, did you?" Ratchet leant back in his seat, arms folded.

"Yeah, man!" Jazz protested, sounding genuinely hurt that his charismatic personality could have been so harshly spurned. "I gave him two. He threatened to shove them up my-"

"Jazz." Optimus interrupted hastily.

"He said he wanted _you_ , Ratch'." Jazz finished regretfully. "Don't think he's ready to trust anyone else."

Ratchet found that surprising, seeing as every interaction he had had with the seeker so far involved a lot of shouting. Perhaps it was a homely touch that reminded him of the _Nemesis_.

"Enough, Jazz," Prowl gestured to the seat opposite him. "We can discuss your inability to refuel an adult seeker at another time. We require an update on Mirage's progress."

Jazz trudged to his seat, but Ratchet zoned out when they began discussing existing routes of entry into the Decepticon base after Soundwave had swept through and sealed off Jazz's 'favourite' security breaches.

They needed to know why Megatron wasn't interested in speaking with them? Perhaps the best mech to answer their question was sitting in one of their hab-suites right this moment.

 

* * *

 

The communication console in the command centre started it's insistent pinging again. Servos clamped over his audials, Skywarp glared at the flashing red light, _and_ the blue mech standing guard over to it.

It pinged. And it pinged. And it pinged. And after it finished, and Skywarp was about to take a breath of relief - it started pinging all over again.

He clutched his helm tighter, growing ever closer to losing it.

Soundwave watched the red button flash apathetically, waiting for it to cut off before raising his comm-link and speaking into it.

To Megatron no doubt, probably something along the lines of, 'hi it's Soundwave again, just letting you know the Autobots have called for the fifty eighth time and clearly aren't planning on stopping anytime soon so can you come pick it up maybe?!?!?!.'

Why didn't they just unplug the console?! Jeez, and mechs called _him_ dumb.

He raised Thundercracker on his private comm, just something to distract from the sanity draining noise. " _Autobots are still calling_."

" _Starscream must be in rare form_." His trine mate answered, sounding wry. " _I think Megatron's trying to wait it out, let the Autobots bear the worst of it."_

Skywarp snorted quietly too himself. " _He hasn't been **that** bad_."

" _You didn't hear the argument they had before we left for the raid._ " Thundercracker said gently. " _He's better off there. For now. I think we all are_."

" _What happened?"_

_"Doesn't matter."_

_"Did Screamer-"_

_"I said leave it, Warp,_ " Thundercracker cut him off harshly. " _Just... Enjoy the peace while it lasts, okay?"_

Skywarp disconnected the comm without responding, watching as the screen on the main console lit up and began to ping all over again. Again, Soundwave spoke to Megatron. And again, nothing changed.

He was going to be hearing that stupid pinging in his recharge.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

According to the Modern Iaconian Medical Journal, no one had ever actually died of boredom, not even someone wired into one of those mobius generators. If Starscream didn't know any better he'd say the Autobots were testing that assumption, and he was their lab rat.

The simple threat of a hunger-strike worked marvellously in his favour though, and once he'd weathered the worst of Ratchet's resulting gutter mouth, the medic had calmed enough to actually take steps in rectifying the situation.

"You like poetry?" He asked, a stack of promising looking datapads tucked under his arm.

"No," Starscream snapped, gut panging when the question conjured up the thought of _him_. "No. Primus, no."

Ratchet shrugged, tossing a few of the datapads down into what appeared to be the reject pile. He checked the next one in his stack. "How about, 'In Pursuit of Religious Harmony and-'"

"No," Starscream interrupted again, louder, "What are trying to do, convert me?"

"I'm hardly a priest," Ratchet rolled his optics, tossing that one aside too, even more carelessly if Starscream didn't know any better. Ratchet read the next one, and a smile flittered across his face. "Ah, you'll like this one."

Starscream swung his legs off the edge of his berth and shuffled to the end, trying not to look too eager. "What is it?"

"It's a translated file, from one of Carly's books. 'The Fairy Princess'? Sounds like your autobiography-"

Starscream swatted it out of his hands, but Ratchet was laughing too hard to care. Starscream ignored the heat growing in his cheeks and rolled onto his side, away from the medic.

"Oh, get over it," Ratchet managed to recompose himself, "For such big bad Decepticon you're easy to offend."

"For an Autobot, you're cruel."

"It's a joke, Starscream." He heard the medic snort gruffly. "I'm _joking_ with you. They have jokes down on the Nemesis?"

Starscream made an absent noise, wanting to commit to his silent treatment.

He heard a sigh, and then felt the berth padding dip with a creak. Poleaxed, he glanced over a wing to see Ratchet perching himself on the edge.

"Look," the old medic began, servos clasped in his lap. "You've been stuck in here for days now. If I didn't come by and talk to you, you'd let yourself turn weird."

Starscream didn't answer.

"Well, weird- _er_."

"Are you quite done!?" Starscream reared up, temper triggering with a surge of discomfort in his lower tanks- not his fuel tank, _lower_. Stupid fragging parasite.

"Alright," Ratchet relented, amusement dissipating as he retrieved the remaining datapads from beneath his arm and began to flip through them. "Ah," he stopped at a particularly tatted, dented looking pad. "This one."

Starscream didn't take it. "Another fairytale?"

"It's Perceptor's," Ratchet wriggled it teasingly, name-dropping one of the Autobots more promising minds. "I'd tell you what it's about, but even the synopsis gave me a processor-ache."

Intrigued, Starscream sat up and took it gratefully. Just a glimpse at the title told him it wasn't going to be light reading. He opened his mouth, but just caught himself before uttering a damningly vulnerable thanks. He wasn't about to express gratitude to his tormentor.

"So," Instead of leaving him with his scraps of entertainment, Ratchet lingered, still on the edge of the berth, inches from Starscream's legs. (He could probably kick him off-)

"Since it has been, what, three days?"

"Four." Starscream glared.

"Four," Ratchet agreed with a frown. "Four days, I was thinking you might like to enlighten me."

"On what? The futility of your existence?"

"On what's caused this fall out you've had with Megatron."

Starscream's digits slipped on he datapad, but he managed to grip it before it clattered to the floor. He schooled his features, pretending to read the opening paragraph. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't seem particularly surprised to still be here." Ratchet shrugged, arrogantly, like he had the slightest clue what was going on. "Wouldn't Megatron prefer his second-in-command stood at his side, rather than stuck sat in an enemy cell?"

Starscream wanted to snap back that Megatron would prefer _this_ second-in-command in his _lap_ , but that wasn't information he had any intention of handing over to nosy Autobots any time soon. Instead he shrugged and continued to use the datapad as cover. "Megatron is a fool with no sense of haste. He will come crawling to you in due time, most likely on his knees, once his idiotic inability to achieve anything by himself becomes apparent enough in my absence."

"So you _did_ have an argument." Ratchet smirked.

"Don't act so surprised," Starscream let the datapad drop into his lap so he could glare. "I know how very amusing it all is to you Autobots. You think I _want_ to waste my life bickering with that dolt?!"

"Well, with the way you provoke him..." Ratchet made a vague gesture, "I always thought it was an easy way for you to get his attention."

Starscream wasn't even going to dignify that with an answer.

"Must be driving you crazy, him ignoring you like this."

Starscream pressed his lips together and said nothing.

There was a long, stifling pause as Ratchet thought.

"... Primus, he's not the _sire_ , is he?"

"No!" Starscream yelped, tanks clenching with a jab of fear. "Of course not!"

Ratchet slumped, as though with relief, and Starscream felt so sick he thought the potassium he'd just shovelled down was going to come up again. He kicked at Ratchet's hip, not hard enough to dislodge him, but enough to make him move.

"Go."

Ratchet hesitated, and well aware of what faces Starscream pulled before he emptied his tanks, asked, "If you're going to purge again-"

"No, just get out!" Starscream snapped, now embarrassed for a whole new reason. He waved his arms, "I don't want your help or your pity. Just go!"

"Alright, alright, hold your horsepower," Ratchet grumbled, moving out of kicking-range. "There's no need to get yourself worked up about this. It's _Megatron_ , he'll take you back."

"You sound sure of yourself." Starscream sneered miserably.

"He always does." Ratchet reminded him, sounding disgusted, and further away now. "If I didn't know better, I'd think he was fond of you."

"You _don't_ know better." Starscream muttered, turning his face into his pillow.

The door closed with the softest click, leaving him alone. The datapad he'd been brought rested on the berth beside him, but lingering misery had stolen every ounce of enthusiasm he'd had for reading it.

 

* * *

 

Mirage's light bending illusions could only protect him from the most basic of security measures, and Soundwave was a force to be reckoned with when it came to setting Autobot booby traps. Even getting to the underwater base had been a challenge, but having to crawl through vents he was barely slim enough to shimmy through was beyond undignified.

It was quiet, eerily so, the Decepticons in some sort of recuperation period whilst they licked their wounds and plotted their next move. Mirage could hear the groans of the old metal hull, straining under the pressure of submarine existence, the echoing drips of leaking bulkheads, and in the distance, like a homing signal, the rhythmic pinging of a comm console.

Mirage frowned. So, it was not a technical problem after all. The Deceptcons were deliberately ignoring them.

He crawled in the direction of the comm, knowing it would lead him to the command centre, where he hopefully wouldn't find Soundwave- who wouldn't need to see him to know he was there. Peaking through slits in the vents he could see databanks below him, the tops of dark seeker helms at monitors, and an unmanned communication console pinging away to itself.

"So Blitz' said he saw Megatron during morning refuel." Mirage jumped when one of the seekers began speaking. 

"Really?" The other responded, with a note of disbelief.

"Looked like crud, he said."

The second seeker glanced around, wings hunched, "You can't talk about him like that-"

"No, I mean, rough, you know? Like he's been skipping recharge cycles."

"...Why?"

"Must be overdoing it again. Heard from Long Haul that he took the news of the retreat pretty hard when he woke up after repairs."

"Cause we left Screamer?"

There was a snort, "If he cared about Screamer he'd be talking to the Bots, wouldn't he." There was a nod towards the pining console. "Not planning some weird revenge scenario to get back at Prime for K-O'ing him-"

The seekers began regaling their idea of what sort of revenge Prime deserved, and disinterested in listening to Decepticons ridicule his leader, Mirage moved on, looking for more informed targets. Megatron hiding himself away to plot was nothing new, especially in the aftermath of a perceived humiliation, but he would normally have the sense to delegate responsibilities to his crew in his absence.

So shouldn't Soundwave, at least, be talking to them?

Mirage was fortunately familiar with the layout of the sunken _Nemesis_. Aside from the odd bit of flooding, we was able to crawl his way to the command quarters with little hindrance. He opened a rusty vent, slowly, carefully, and peered into Megatron's quarters.

Vacant.

Mirage leant back, confused.

If Megatron had been holing himself up, surely this was where he'd be hiding?

He continued on his way, deciding to try the throne room next, and by the sheer luck of having to pass through the other high command quarters, he happened upon his target.

Megatron. In Starscream's mess of a room. Sat on the edge of an unmade berth, huge servos clasped in his lap. Mirage reset his optics and focused in. Blitzwing's gossip had been correct. Megatron didn't look much like his usual imposing self. He was slumped, optics dim, field flagging.

Mirage almost felt sorry for him.

He jumped when the comm on Megatron's wrist began to ping, but it wasn't given the chance to ring out. Megatron slapped it off without bothering to check who was calling. And continued with his sulking.

Mirage wondered how exactly he was supposed to explain this in his report.

 

* * *

 

Starscream wasn't showing any signs of improving his abysmal mood. Ratchet watched him through the one-way window in the door, sat tugging on a lose thread, slowly and diligently unravelling his berth's insulation cover. From the angle it was easy to see the minute changes in his structure- for an eagle-optic'd medic at least. His pedes were wider, and the instep of his thrusters weren't so high. It was a sign that Starscream's frame was preparing to take on weight.

And a lot of it. 

Ratchet stroked his chin, thinking he should probably drag him onto a scale, start monitoring any weight gain, or loss. He'd have to corral someone into installing a truck scale.

He glanced away from the window. Beside him Prowl was frowning at a datafile, not in disapproval, but concentration.

"His gestation?"

"Nineteen percent." Ratchet answered, looking again to watch Starscream sit and do nothing but blink at the wall, before going back to pulling on the thread. "He's been stuck in there a week."

"I'm aware." Prowl glared.

Ratchet stowed the urge to snap back. "We should let him stretch his legs."

"That would go against protocol."

"So?!" Ratchet's optic twitched. "Keeping him in a habsuite and not a cell goes 'against protocol', because we don't _have_ protocol for pregnant seekers."

"Starscream cannot be trusted."

"Then I'll cuff him." Ratchet rolled his optics, "What's the worst he's gonna do? Escape? Good riddance."

Prowl made a contemplative noise, looking between Starscream's file and Ratchet's stern face. "Then do cuff him." He conceded, "And take a guard escort."

Ratchet began to nod.

"If he attacks you, or attempts to sabotage or steal equipment-"

"He won't."

"If he _does_ ," Prowl interrupted. "We will take appropriate action against him."

"He's carrying." Ratchet reminded him.

"Then it's up to you to ensure he doesn't endanger that new-spark." Prowl switched the datafile off and tucked it under his arm. "So I would think carefully about how much you trust that Decepticon before letting him out of this room."

 

* * *

 

Trust didn't play into it. When it really came down to it, Ratchet didn't trust anyone not to put themselves at unnecessary risk. Four million years of watching your friends fight and die with no end in sight did that to a mech.

He could trust Starscream to be Starscream though, and if he was already prepared for the worst, not much else could go wrong.

Could it?

"We're going for a walk." He barged into Starscream's little room, cuffs enticingly dangling from his pinky.

Starscream was sat in the corner furthest from the light source. His face was cast in shadow so Ratchet couldn't tell quite how miserable he really was when he lifted his helm to scoff.

"Use your _words_ , Starscream." Ratchet reminded him, shooing back Silverbolt when the Aerialbot tried to follow him into the room. For his own safety, of course.

Smouldering optics glinted through the darkness. "I'm not a _pet_." He spat. "Put a leash on one of your humans, take _them_ for a walk."

Ratchet sighed, closing his servo around the cuffs. "Your joints are going to seize up. You want turn into a creaky old mess like me?"

Starscream didn't respond.

Ratchet dropped to a crouch in front of him, well aware that he was within swiping range, and that his cheek had only barely healed. Starscream drew his legs in closer, wriggling back into his corner. He looked uncomfortable. He looked stressed. Nothing about this was good news for that spark he carried.

Ratchet glanced towards the doorway. Silverbolt's wing was just visible in the corner where he was guarding the door.

"Starscream," he dropped his voice to a murmur, fingering at the cuffs. "If I were to take you out for some fresh air, and these things just happened to malfunction? There'd be nothing stopping you from just..." He left the sentence open, the rest unsaid.

Still, there was silence from Starscream, and Ratchet was beginning to think there was something seriously wrong. He reached forward and pushed his palm to Starscream's forehead, letting the thermo-pad that had been installed into his hand specially to read internal temperature activate.

Starscream hissed and tired to bat him off, but Ratchet knocked his swiping claws away, holding on long enough to get a proper read. Normal.

Great, so it was an emotional problem. The kind he couldn't just fix with a screwdriver.

With a sigh he turned to the open door.

"We'll leave it today, kid," he called to Silverbolt. "You can go."

Sliverbolt peaked around the doorway to nod, and likely to steal a quick glimpse of the compromised enemy. Starscream hissed at him, and Silverbolt quickly sealed the door on him.

"Gawking imbecile." Starscream snarled.

"It's not his fault you're always making a spectacle of yourself." Ratchet lowered himself to the floor, knees joints grinding. He landed back against the bulkhead with a oof, and wince. "What's wrong with the furniture." He muttered, rubbing the small of his back as a strut pulled sharply.

"What are you doing, Autobot?" Starscream muttered, trying to hide in his knees. Closer now, Ratchet could see his face better, and in the low light he glimpsed tracks of dried moisture running down Starscream's cheeks.

He looked away, pretending he hadn't seen.

"You don't want to go back." He guessed.

Starscream closed his optics and let his helm thunk back against the bulkhead. "It's none of your business-"

"Are you frightened someone's going to hurt you?" Ratchet pressed, a genuine, irrepressible concern brewing in his chest, "That something's going to happen to you, or the new-spark?"

Starscream's optics burst online with light, vocaliser hitching with a mechanical whir as he shouted, "I'm not some stupid damsel!"

Ratchet might have backed away had he been facing Starscream on any other day, in any other situation, but the formidable second-in-command of the Decepticon empire was not currently in possession of all his facilities. Seekers were finely-tuned feats of advanced engineering and billions of years worth of cyber-evolution, and if they had so much as a single bolt loose they tended to collapse into useless heaps of whimpering metal- and Starscream was suffering from far more than just a loose bolt. He was in the taxing process of creating a whole new being. His frame wasn't going to let him waste precious energy smacking around a harmless medic.

"Your mood swings are getting worse."

Starscream's hooked claws curled into clenched, shaking fists, his face twisting with a myriad of emotions. Ratchet's felt something tug on his spark. He was expressing far too much sympathy of this little brat.

Starscream dropped his fist and banged his helm against the bulkhead in frustration, as if he too, was suffering from some sort of dire inner conflict. Ratchet wanted to reach over and comfort him, but he also wanted to keep his digits attached to his hand.

"I want to have the sparkling here."

Ratchet had to do a double take, searching Starscream's determined face for some sign of a joke. There was none. "You're not- What do you think this is?" He bellowed, pointing. "A free clinic?!"

"You're _supposedly_ the best medic-"

"An _Autobot_ medic." Ratchet snarled, pushing against the bulkhead to stand. "Not _your_ medic."

"You're already treating me!"

"Temporarily!" Ratchet snapped. "No. You're not my responsibility. And what the Pit are we supposed to tell your nut-job friends when they finally get off their afts and ask for you back?! That you're defecting?! That you've decided to use me as your obstetrician?!"

Starscream was watching him bluster silently, and set of his jaw told Ratchet he had already made his decision, and wouldn't be changing it any time soon.

"What about it's _sire_?" He tried weakly.

Starscream's optics hardened, the red solid and lightless. "He doesn't need to know."

 

* * *

 

It had been precisely one week since the worst day of Megatron's life, and it was the day Soundwave finally reached breaking point.

The door comm pinged, and that was the only warning Megatron received for Soundwave's inevitable entrance before the reinforced steel door was booted straight off it's mechanical track with a deafening clang. It fell to the floor with a thunk, and then Soundwave was stomping his way over the top of it and into Starscream's room.

He came to a stop before Megatron at the end of Starscream's berth.

Megatron peered up at him.

"... I'm assuming you want something."

"There have been one hundred and twenty eight missed communications in your absence." Soundwave began. "Optimus Prime himself has left nine video messages. Two of which consisted solely of expletives. Estimated time until next attempted communication; five minutes."

Megatron dropped his cheek to his fist, hardly in the mood to deal with any of this. "And your point is?"

Soundwave loomed over him in eery silence for a while. Just when Megatron was beginning to think it would be endless, Soundwave thrust out an arm, pointing in the direction of the door. "The time for feeling sorry for oneself has passed." He intoned dangerously. "You will report to the wash-racks and make yourself presentable."

Megatron snorted, wondering what the damn point of _that_ was. What the point of anything was, "Why would I do that?"

"To return Prime's communication." Soundwave's helm tilted and he began to count on displayed digits. "To order the release of your Second-in-Command. To make amends with Starscream-"

"No," Megatron's spark throbbed in it's chamber at the thought of seeing Starscream again. A crippling, weak emotion. He snuffed the feeling like a cyberbug under his thumb, grasping for anger with which to bury it under.

"Starscream is-"

"Foolish." Soundwave filled in for him, and his conviction was, in a way, reassuring.

Almost reassuring enough to drown out the damning memory file, playing over and over in Megatron's head, the fight that lead to his distraction on the battlefield. _I don't want you._

Megatron felt weak and heavy, and just the thought of rising from the berth, let alone getting under a shower and facing Prime-

"No," he rubbed a servo down his face. "You speak to Prime."

"Lord Megatron-"

"And order a crew to fix the door," he commanded, thinking he would linger here, on Starscream's empty berth, just a little while longer.

"Acknowledged." Soundwave responded, already stamping his way out the door.

Megatron watched him go, and a part of him, a cowardly broken part, hoped his attempt at a negotiation would fall through.

He wasn't sure he could face Starscream yet.

 

* * *

 

Wheeljack was unable to procure a set of human made 'truck scales' strong enough to take Starscream's weight. Most could handle around fifteen tonnes, but Starscream was already over twenty, and getting heavier. Unable to simply have some shipped over to Earth, he had to build them himself. And for some reason, the wait was making Starscream anxious.

"I'm not that heavy." He snarled, watching with Ratchet as Wheeljack, helped (hindered) by Grimlock, set the concrete foundations for their makeshift scales in the medbay. "I'm a full head shorter than Prime! _He's_ a 'truck'."

Prowl wouldn't be particularly pleased to walk in and find a loose Decepticon wandering about the medbay, but it was a compromise between Starscream's refusal to leave his room and Ratchet's insistence he take a walk. Sitting him in a big chair by the radiation scanner so he could watch and judge the daily ongoings of the _Ark_ safely at Ratchet's side seemed to be working well so far.

"Size has nothing to do with weight." Ratchet told him, watching Grimlock accidentally drop a heavy metal slab on Wheeljack's finger and wincing in sympathy. "You're compact. _Dense_. Not to mention the weight of your wings."

They pricked up at their mention, fanning wide behind Starscream.

"My weight is none of your business." Starscream said stubbornly, flicking them back.

"My medbay." Ratchet waved a digit around. "My rules. You don't like it? You can wander on back to the Nemesis."

Starscream visibly shuddered, and Ratchet, having given some thought to the seeker's predicament, couldn't blame him. Hook was a good medic, a little obsessive sometimes, but good, but the rest of his gestalt...

"I'm not going to tell anyone what you weigh." He promised with a sigh.

Starscream shifted in his chair, before giving a stiff nod. Ratchet wanted to roll his optics. It was easy to forget how young and stupid Starscream really was until he started acting like a brat.

 

* * *

 

Red Alert was about to enjoy a brief refuel when Teletraan lit up with a incoming call. He jumped, spilling his cube down his front, hastily scrambling to put the caller on hold and hail Optimus before whatever motivation to finally call back left the Decepticon on the other end of the console.

Optimus answered after two pings, but Red Alert was so flustered he could only shout a panicked, "Phone!" down the comm at his leader.

Thankfully, Optimus seemed to understand his meaning, and he was still dabbing away at the energon from the seams in his armour when his leader came striding in and jabbed the control to accept the call.

"Megatron-"

Optimus stopped short, straightening, because it was not Megatron's sneering visage that filled the screen.

"Soundwave." Optimus rectified, in a far more controlled manner. "How fairs Megatron?"

Red Alert couldn't be sure if Optimus was asking in concern of his enemy's absence or if it was a jab at how easily it had been to knock him flat on his aft during their last meeting. Red Alert hoped it was a latter. Empathy was their greatest security threat.

" _Inconsequential_." Soundwave intoned coldly. " _I am under orders to secure the return of Air Commander Starscream."_

The relief Red Alert felt was reflected in Optimus with the way his shoulders dipped. He wasn't the only one losing recharge over the thought of sharing a base with a deranged Decepticon it seemed. 

"Ah," Optimus sounded like he was smiling under the face mask. "So you _did_ receive my messages?"

" _Affirmative_." Soundwave didn't sound amused in return. " _Provide proof of function_."

Optimus glanced over at Red Alert. "Have someone escort Starscream up."

Red Alert nodded. The sooner that seeker was gone, the sooner things returned to normal.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Starscream didn't appreciate Mandatory Nap Hour, but Ratchet was a difficult Autobot to argue with, and despite Starscream's rather sedate captive-lifestyle, he did tire easily. The new-spark production took it's toil in more ways than one, sucking down fuel and spark energy alike with merciless perseverance, and often waking him in the middle of a recharge just to stage a hostile takeover of his fuel tanks.

Typical, that the half-developed new-spark would presume to call the shots in his _own frame_ , given who the _sire_ was...

Mandatory though they were, at least the naps were giving him the opportunity to keep up his strength should an opportunistic Autobot think he easy prey.

"I don't need an hour." He told Ratchet anyway, sitting on his berth but waiting for him to back off before reclining.

" _I_ need an hour." Ratchet plumped up his pillow. "You're not the only one entitled to a break."

Starscream huffed, glancing at the plumped up pillow in disgust. Ratchet seemed to forget his prisoner was a Decepticon warrior, and that being sparked did _not_ make him an incapable invalid. He was perfectly capable of puffing up his own cursed pillows.

He watched Ratchet straighten, hands on hips. "What now? You want me to read you a bedtime story?"

"I want you to leave." Starscream sneered.

"You promise you'll recharge?"

Starscream smirked, "So the promise of a Decepticon still means something to you?"

"Debatable." Ratchet's optics narrowed. "But if the wellbeing of that new-spark means anything to _you_ , you'd sleep and stop turning everything into an argument, wouldn't you?"

Starscream punched his perfectly fluffed up pillow and threw himself down on it with as much attitude as he could muster. Ratchet only smiled that smug 'I-know-best' smile of his and nodded. "I'll be back with fuel in an hour. Then you can come sit with me in the medbay."

"Oh goody." Starscream muttered into his pillow.

He heard Ratchet's sigh over the sound of the whisper-quiet door sliding shut, then he was left with nothing but the sound of his own vents, and the scratch of the starchy pillow under his cheek.

It was hardly the luxurious Caminus silk he had on his own berth at the _Nemesis_ , but he was getting used to it. Something about the practical feel reminded him of another mech's berth, but when he turned his olfactory into it, it smelt of clean laundered fabric and general Autobot-ness, not gunpowder trace and engine grease.

He shuttered his optics, tensing against a surge of spark energy. The new-spark in his spark chamber wasn't yet developed enough to have gained sentience, but it's thirst for energy was no longer unrecognised, nor ignorable. It was strong, and becoming inconveniently attune to his emotions, even though it had yet to experience feelings of it's own.

He wondered if it was normal for it to be so restless so early on.

And he rather wished he hadn't spent the weeks they'd covered the subject of sparking in the Academy allowing himself to be distracted by Skywarp. _And_ , maybe if he hadn't, he could have prevented this entire condition befalling on him in the first place.

He should have been more vigilant. He should have taken precautions. He should have recharged in his _own_ berth. He should have _kept his hands to himself_.

And he certainly should have ignored those imploring optics and clever, honeyed words...

Just as he was drifting off to conflictingly pleasant memories of warm hands and dizzying kisses, the silence he'd been left in became disturbed. He ignored it for a moment, clutching at the memory of heat drenched sheets and a stupid, attractive smile, but Ratchet's obnoxiously temperamental voice stole the fantasy away.

His optics snapped online into slits, and moments later the door was pinging that stupid ping.

"-let me talk to him first!" Ratchet's argument became audible as the door slipped open. Starscream sat up and saw him in the doorway, squaring up to a befuddled Ironhide. "He's in a delicate state!"

"Yer the one who's yellin!" Ironhide protested.

"And _you're_ the one who is gonna get himself reformatted into a new refrigerator for the human rec-room if you don't shut up and give me a minute with my patient!" Ratchet threatened, stepping into the room and not waiting for a reply from his scandalised comrade before shutting the door again.

Starscream rose from the berth, and regretted ever arguing against Nap Hour when he felt exhaustion deep within his struts. He sank back to the berth again, scowling, "Now what?"

"They're asking for you."

Starscream's tank swooped, and the following nausea had nothing to do with his condition.

"Megatron?" He barely whispered.

Ratchet shook his helm, "Soundwave. He wants to take a look at you before engaging in negotiations."

Which explained what Ironhide was here for, sent to scoop him up for presentation, all repaired and dusted off, so Soundwave could look him over and decide how many cubes it would be worth to take him back.

"No."

Ratchet didn't say anything, but out in the corridor Ironhide banged on the door impatiently.

"Starscream-"

"You said I could stay here." Starscream interrupted abruptly, in his most accusing tone.

"No I didn't."

There was another bang, and this time Ratchet turned around to bellow, "You're one more bang from becoming a laundry machine, 'Hide!"   
  
Ironhide didn't have the gumption to bang again it seemed, because silence settled over them.

And Starscream struggled to fill it with excuses. "I, I can't go back yet-"

"I'll give you some files." Ratchet's tone dropped into something too gentle for a Decepticon captive. "Some information you can share with the sire-"

"I can't-!" Starscream's servos balled into fists. "I can't share _anything_ with the sire, you old husk! You think I'm just going to walk back in there with an armful of pamphlets and a new-spark in my chest and we'll all play happy families?! Build it a nursery?! Sparkling-proof the ion cannons?!"

"So... Primus, so you want to _defect_?!" Ratchet blanched.

"Primus, no!" Starscream felt how he sounded, almost gagging at the thought, "Are you _deranged_? Why would you think-?"

"I don't know _what_ to think!" Ratchet snapped back, furious, but voice dropping conspiratorially low to prevent certain eavesdroppers from hearing on the other side of the door. "You may be sparked but I'm not stupid. With your reputation, I can't just trust you. I can't vouch for you. Not if you don't give me a reason _why_?"

Starscream chest tightened, and he found it difficult to speak, even if he did have something to say.

"Starscream." Ratchet was just as gruff, scowling just as hard, but something had gentled about him. "Just one thing. Just tell me one reason."

 _Megatron is the sire,_ he wanted to say, just to have it out in the open.

"I can't raise it." He said instead.

Ratchet was silent for a long time. There was a creak of gears and the medic bent, crouching before him and rubbing a hand down his face wearily. "You don't want it."

"I can have it here." Starscream elaborated, reminding himself through his numbness that this was the best idea he had. The _only_  idea he had. "And it can stay here. And no one need ever know."

"And when it comes out with wings?" Ratchet muttered with a hint of sarcasm.

Starscream thought he'd have far more to worry about if it came out with Megatron's distinct helm shape.

"This is a lot to ask-" Ratchet began.

"No it isn't. I'm sure there are plenty of sad little Autobots desperate for the pitter-patter of tiny pedes, regardless of where it came from. It's a win-win situation. Your numbers increase in the most joyous manner imaginable, and _I_ am free to return to my life, _unhindered_."

Ratchet didn't look happy.

"Well?" Starscream demanded. "Go. Report to your superior. Maybe he'll be keener on the idea."

 

* * *

 

In all the confusion, they'd left Optimus in stifled conversation with Soundwave for nearing an hour, which probably wasn't going to do anything good for Auto-Decepticon relations. Ratchet reminded himself that they'd ignored _them_ for over a week firat though, so frankly it served the communications officer right.

Optimus seemed reluctant to hang up, probably something to do with the fifty missed calls he'd suffered through and how the thought of going through it all again disturbed him greatly. Out of view of the pickup, Ratchet continued to gesticulate wildly.

Optimus groaned like he was going to regret it, but murmured a soft, "Excuse me," to an already furious Soundwave before hanging up on him.

"There's a problem." Ratchet approached now that he was able to do so.

Optimus dropped into a high backed seat, optics shuttering above his mask. "I gathered. Where is Starscream?"

"He's still taking his nap."

Optimus opened his optics. They were glazed over. "...His _what_?"

"His _nap_ ," Ratchet struggled against his growing impatience. "The new-spark disturbs him in the night. We're all just safer if he takes them, trust me. But that's not what this is about. We can't send him back."

Teletraan blinked on with an incoming message, and Red Alert's alarmed little face popped up over Optimus's shoulder questioningly.

"Ignore it." Optimus ordered, lifting a servo to Red Alert but keeping his focus on Ratchet. "I have it on good authority that Starscream's been sitting in your medbay for the past three days, bullying anyone unfortunate enough to have need of you, so I _know_ he's not in an immobile condition."

"No," Ratchet agreed, refraining from telling Optimus what an excellent deterrent Starscream had become against attention-seekers and hypochondriacs in his medbay, and how much extra work he had been able to get done recently because of him. "He's refusing to return to the Decepticons."

"I find it difficult to believe a mech like Starscream has any interest in defection."

"He doesn't." Ratchet reassured his leader. "He's seeking... a temporary asylum, of sorts. He wants to have the sparkling here, and he wants us to keep it."

Optimus sat up considerably straighter. "His reasons?"

"He's not exactly big on sharing them."

"But you're close to him." Optimus leant forward, strongly implying he wanted him to push for information.

"Close?" Ratchet's optics nearly popped out of his helm. "Am I?!"

"Certainly more so than anyone else here."

"He likes Wheeljack." Ratchet protested, though 'like' was perhaps too strong a word. Wheeljack's unfortunate aptitude for injuring himself was a great source of amusement to the Decepticon.

Optimus hummed noncommittally, stroking the edge of his mask. "The sire?"

"Has yet to be named." Ratchet leant back against Teletraan's control panel. "What do we do?"

"Starscream has every right to make this decision." Optimus straightened. "We honour it."

"And the Cons? They'll be suspicious. We have to tell them something, if only for Starscream's sake. They'll suspect he's passing us information."

"They won't." Optimus shook his helm, looking surprisingly amused behind his mask. "I'm sure I can come up with something to stall them for few months."

Ratchet had a feeling Optimus was looking forward to a little payback.

 

* * *

 

Soundwave was unhappy. And for a mech so stoic, any visible expression of emotion was disorienting. Skywarp edged behind Thundercracker, praying to whatever God was listening that Soundwave hadn't pinned him as the culprit behind greasing up the stairway to the engine room yesterday.

"You asked for us." Thundercracker flicked Skywarp with a wing, trying to stop himself being used as a living shield.

Soundwave nodded. "After an extended discussion with the Autobots in which nothing much was said, I was disconnected from the call, ignored for twenty minutes, and then called back to be informed Air Commander Starscream is not yet fit for prisoner exchange." 

Skywarp blinked. "Oh."

"Why?" Thundercracker asked.

"Starscream has contracted a case of cosmic rust and has been placed under quarantine." Soundwave somehow explained without a hint of the sarcasm he was somehow projecting.

And now Skywarp was confused. He looked at Soundwave, then his trineamate, then back again. "Rust? He can't come back because he's got rust?"

"Allegedly." Soundwave confirmed darkly.

"Will he be alright?" Thundercracker asked imploringly.

"Rest assured your trine-leader will not succumb to cosmic rust anytime in the foreseeable future." Soundwave droned. "The statistical likelihood of succumbing to an imaginary illness is ten million to one."

Skywarp focused on running his own statistics, just to be sure.

"So it's a lie?" Thundercracker frowned.

"Affirmative."

"How can you be sure? And, and _why_ would they lie? Why keep Starscream? He can't be doing them any favours. I mean, it's _Starscream_!?"

Thundercracker was asking a lot of questions rather quickly. Skywarp was still struggling over the cosmic rust survival rate part. And it wasn't like Starscream to go rolling in suspect spare parts and get himself sick anyway. He was too prissy for that.

"I have my methods." Soundwave answered Thundercracker hauntingly, just as Skywarp zoned back in. 

"You shoved Frenzy into their ventilation shaft again?" Skywarp hung out with the twins enough to know what Soundwave's 'methods' were.

Soundwave stared at him in silence, for five entire creepy seconds.

"Does Megatron know?" Thundercracker sounded a little like he was panicking. "Because someone needs to tell Megatron. Someone who isn't me, preferably."

"If he doesn't come out of Starscream's room we probably won't have to tell him." Skywarp shrugged.

"Negative." Soundwave burst that bubble. "Megatron no longer has access to Starscream's quarters."

Skywarp mirrored Thundercracker in looking at Soundwave in panic. "He _what_?"

"The door has been barricaded." Soundwave lowered his helm, solemn. "For his own good, I believed."

"Then _you're_ telling him." Skywarp pointed. "About Starscream, _and_ his cosmic rust."

"Starscream doesn't have cosmic rust, Warp."

Now Skywarp was even more confused, "Then why are talking about it?"

 

* * *

 

It took Starscream longer to drift off after Ratchet had left, distracted from pleasant warm memories of the night which may have (probably had) resulted in his current cargo, by a new guilt.

He thought of Megatron, with his open, unguarded expression when Starscream had him pinned on his back, his whole powerful frame to play with. How he laid there and trusted him, watched him slip clawed fingers into the sensitive gaps on his abdomen, close a mouth full of sharp denta over the delicate buttons on his waist, and how he never once flinched in anticipation of a bite. He was too trusting, frankly.

Shame tricked down Starscream's spinal strut when he thought of murmured declarations, quiet enough to ignore, to pretend he'd misheard. It was easier if Megatron didn't love him. And he didn't. He didn't. 

He fell into a fitful sleep, an anxious knot in his chest that even recharge couldn't soothe away. He relived terrible memories of the week before his capture, petty squabbles and stubborn silent treatments and Megatron cornering him before he could storm off and leave for the raid, and that awful struck look on his face when he'd said-

"Starscream."

A hand on his shoulder woke him. He sat up, blinking rapidly against the moisture that wanted to gather, brushing Ratchet away. "What?!"

The old medic's mouth was a hard thin line. "Spoke to Prime. You can stay."

Starscream nodded, not sure if it was relief he felt, or dread. No backing out now.

"Nothing's written in stone. You still have options." Ratchet seemed to read his mind. "If you change your mind. Or if you decided you want to keep in contact with-"

"I don't." Starscream snapped, feeling vindictive, but not sure why. "I want to get rid of it, as soon as possible."

Ratchet shifted. "...I can do that too."

Starscream blinked in surprise.

Ratchet's open expression twisted into a scowl. "What?" He snapped, "I was a medic before the war, you know. You think I haven't had to perform a reabsorption on some panicking idiot before?"

"I'm surprised you'd openly admit it." Starscream leant back against the berth frame, seeing the Autobot in a new interesting light. Extinguishing (or 'reabsorbing') a new-spark had been deemed illegal under the senate on Cybertron, and medics found to be performing such treatments were often stripped of their qualifications and thrown into a cell. "Your Prime know you were committing crimes against Primus?"

Ratchet snorted with an optic roll, and Starscream had the impression he'd gotten into a discussion of this sort on more than one occasion. "New-sparks don't have consciousness until the two month mark. Before then they're just this ball of energy stuck to the carrier spark, like a growth. All it takes is a little zap, and the carrier's spark reabsorbs it. No harm done."

"And the protoform?" Starscream asked, not to challenge, but... because he genuinely didn't know.

"Broken down into raw materials and distributed around the frame where needed." Ratchet answered simply. "Once you hit that two month mark though, that's when it becomes untethered, or 'splits'." He reached forward and tapped Starscream's chest lightly. "Then it grows a consciousness of it's own."

"And you can't 'zap it', as you so crudely put?"

Ratchet made a vague gesture with his hand. "You could, theoretically. But it is alive at that point, and would feel it. And you would feel it feeling it."

"Two months." Starscream repeated.

"Sixty five percent into the gestation process." Ratchet clarified. "You're at twenty two."

It was... tempting, to say the least, knowing that Ratchet could just end it here and now, and it wouldn't bring any harm, and it wouldn't ruin everything he's ever worked for, and Megatron would never need to know.

A hand landed on top of his, squeezing.

"Whatever you want to do." Ratchet said gently, closer than Starscream had realised. "I'm your medic now. This is the only time you'll hear me say, honestly, that you can trust me."

Starscream didn't trust anyone.

But having the new-spark reabsorbed just seemed too final a decision. He couldn't change his mind afterwards. If only to buy himself some time, he met Ratchet's gaze and said, "No. It deserves to suffer through life as much as the rest of us."

Ratchet somehow managed to refrain from rolling his optics. He nodded. "I think you need another hours nap."

Starscream settled back down onto the berth, pulling the covers up over himself. "Make it two hours."

 

* * *

 

To help with the momentous task ahead of him, Ratchet dragged a foldable chair up alongside Starscream's berth and began compiling a list. Starscream could not stay holed up in this little room for hours on end, broken only by brief trips to the medbay to keep him from pulling off his own armour in boredom, for the _next two and a half months_. He needed stimulation, exercise, and a schedule. He needed a larger room. He needed socialisation. He needed to be educated on what to expect. And Primus help them all, they needed to arrange an emergence plan for when Starscream's new-spark finally descended into it's protoform.

That wasn't a day anyone would be looking forward too.

Still napping beside him, Starscream stirred restlessly, brow furrowed and mouth moving silently, his claws grasping at the sheets helplessly.

Ratchet debated on waking him again after what had already been a stressful day.

Starscream tossed and turned, breathing a sharp, 'No!'

Ratchet dropped the datafile he'd been compiling his list on. It hit the floor with a loud slap. Starscream's optics snapped online.

Ratchet cleared his vocaliser and bent to retrieve it. By the time he was upright, so was Starscream, rubbing his optics with the heels of his hands.

"Want something to help you recharge?" He asked as casually as he could.

Starscream shook his helm, gaze focused on the floor as he swung his legs off the edge of the berth. Ratchet heard a grind of gears, caught a wince.

He lowered his datafile again, exhaling loudly. "You're getting stiff."

"It's the berth." Starscream grumbled.

"It's your refusal to take a damn walk." Ratchet said, _loudly_ , because he was _right_. "And all that extra weight you're starting to haul around isn't going to help that."

"I am not letting you parade me around your base!" Starscream snapped. "Not looking like this!"

He flung out his arm, the one Ratchet had stripped of paint during the initial repairs when they first brought Starscream in.

Ah, Ratchet thought, considering the state of Starscream's half painted armour. He should have known. He lifted his datafile and glanced at the first item on the list; _Convince Starscream to take a walk._

He knew just the mech to help him with this.

* * *

 

Sunstreaker was exactly as helpful as he'd expected him to be.

"No," cringed Sideswipe.

"I wasn't _talking_ to _you_ ," Ratchet reminded Sideswipe for the third time. Sunstreaker was sat with a scowl, an obvious 'no' in itself. "I'm not asking for him," he implored, "For me. Do it for me. As a _thank you_ for all the time's I've had to piece you back together again. Both of you, sometimes at the same time."

Sideswipe looked away with a guilty fidget, but Sunstreaker was somewhat harder to guilt-trip. He folded his arms, stubborn as ever.

"For the new-spark?" Ratchet sunk a little lower. "A sparkling is only as happy and healthy as it's creator."

"What does a new paint job have to do with health?" Sunstreaker asked.

"How would you feel if you were missing half your paint?" Ratchet arched a knowing brow. "Would you be happy for everyone to see you in just your primer?"

Sunstreaker's optics darkened. "That's different."

"I dunno, Sunny," Sideswipe piped in again. "Screamer might be the only other mech I've ever met that could match you for vanity."

"I'm not vain." Sunstreaker muttered.

Ratchet refrained from laughing.

"Hey, you could probably paint 'wide load' on his aft without him noticing." Sideswipe's optics lit up with mischief at his bright, terrible idea.

"No." Ratchet barked before either of them could start thinking about the possibilities of vandalising a prisoner's armour. "You're not writing _anything_ on his back. You're definitely not going to even _think_ about writing something like 'wide load' on the back of a pregnant seeker."

Sideswipe stifled a snort.

"I'd do it myself, but I'm not up to his standards." Ratchet ignored the red twin. "You're the best artist out of either faction."

Sunstreaker's helm lifted a little higher, his expression softening. "He said that?"

Of course he hadn't. Ratchet nodded. "He did."

Sunstreaker thought for a moment. "Okay, whatever."

 

* * *

 

Barricading Starscream's room had done it's job in keeping Megatron out of it. He no longer spent eighteen hours a day moping in there, and had instead dedicated that time to furiously beating the bolts out of hapless sparring drone after sparring drone. Soundwave entered the room set aside for honing hand-to-hand combat skills, having been drawn there by the ruthlessly constant racket of smashing and rendering metal, and arrived just in time to witness Megatron pick up one of the larger drones by it's leg and repeatedly swing it into the bulkhead.

"Lord Megatron." Soundwave approached.

He wasn't heard as the drone was swung again, denting the bulkhead, and again, with force enough to loosen it's head.   
  
"Lord _Megatron_ ," Soundwave tried again, ducking to the side when the arm came off and flew across the room.

Smash, smash, smash. Armour flying, wiring sparking, Megatron's optics dark and furious.

" _ **Megatron**_."

One last swing and the leg finally came loose from the rest of the drone's body. Megatron looked at it, then threw it to the floor in disgust. "Where are the advanced drones?" He snarled, stalking towards the storage closets to activate another six simultaneously. "I need a challenge."

Soundwave looked at what was left of the drones already trashed on the floor, "You appear to have destroyed them."

Megatron didn't answer, moving back and letting the new drones surround him. One rushed him and he punched it _through_ it's helm, taking it down instantly.

"I have an update on Commander Starscream," Soundwave told him.

Megatron looked up, distracted, and the drone behind him rolled forwards and hit him in the back of the shoulder. He jumped, then snarled and turned to twist it's head off. "Deactivate." He ordered the rest of them, and their arms fell limp at their sides, optics black.

Megatron stalked towards him. "When is he coming back?"

"Unconfirmed." Soundwave subtly probed Megatron's emotions, trying to gauge how this news would be received, and if it would be safe to deliver today. Megatron was frustrated, anxious, and desperately sad. Soundwave took a measured step back, just in case. "The Autobots claim to have him in quarantine."

"And is it true?" Megatron somehow became tenser, his shoulders squaring as though to brace himself for bad news.

"Negative." Soundwave removed the video recording Ravage had taken from inside the _Ark_ just yesterday, the proof that Starscream was rust-free and interacting with the Autobots he had supposedly been quarantined against. "Their reasons for holding him are unclear."

Megatron took the recording and held it up to optic level. "Audio?"

"Unnecessary." Ravage hadn't been close enough to pick up sound, but Starscream's good health was evident enough without it. Soundwave had already watched the footage. It was a lot of Starscream sat around the _Ark's_ medbay, spinning in a chair, rearranging the equipment behind the medic's back, and occasionally sneering at something someone must have said.

"Simply Starscream behaving as he does."

Megatron closed his fist around the recording, holding it profoundly, and Soundwave realised he'd just supplied his leader with a brand new object to obsess and sulk over; unfocused, static-filled, silent recordings of Starscream.

"I will press for more information." Soundwave reassured him, hoping that perhaps the footage would serve to motivate Megatron, and that maybe _seeing_ Starscream would draw his spark out of whatever dark hole he'd let it sink into. "If you recommend further action-"

"Not yet," Megatron murmured, passing him, gaze locked on the recording. "I'm not to be disturbed."

"Acknowledged." Soundwave watched him leave, already planning for at least three days of hermit-like behaviour from him. 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Ratchet hadn't planned on giving  _both_ twins access to Starscream, but Sideswipe slipped in after his brother and even someone as skilled at Lambo-wrangling as Ratchet was having trouble corralling two front-liners _and_ a seeker in such a confined space.

There was a fair amount of shrill name calling, and a near scuffle, but all it took was Sunstreaker revealing the paint samples he'd brought for Starscream to settle. He was sat on a stool soon after, angling a hand held mirror to watch Sunstreaker at work on the back of his wing, and to keep an optic on whatever Sideswipe was doing as he claimed to be 'only watching'.

"Sides," Ratchet warned when he caught him pulling a stupid face in Starscream's direction.

"What?" He held up his arms innocently.

"You're distracting me." Sunstreaker murmured, focused on his work, painting a commendably straight line along the edge of Starscream's wing. Starscream must have been impressed too, because an almost-smile drifted across his face.

"I'm not repainting the insignia that was on your wing." Sunstreaker said, still deep in focus. "I can paint over the other one or leave you looking like a half finished idiot. Your choice."

The smile slipped off Starscream's dark face. "You're not worthy to make that mark on my armour anyway." He muttered. "Paint over the other."

Ratchet couldn't imagine Megatron being particularly happy when Starscream returned sans insignias. Sunstreaker continued to work with dedicated precision on an uncommonly still Starscream. Behind them Ratchet watched Sideswipe's fidgeting increase. He'd clearly thought this was going to be more entertaining than actually watching paint dry.

"So when do you pop?" He asked.

Starscream stiffened and Sunstreaker made a noise of deep displeasure, drawing his brush away before he left a wonky line.

"What's it to you?" Ratchet asked him grumpily. "You planning a sparkling shower?"

"Maybe I am," Sideswipe snarked back, just as sarcastically.

"Two months or so," Starscream answered anyway, "And my telling you that is not an invitation for you to start planning a celebration for it's arrival."

Sideswipe tilted his helm, glancing at Ratchet, and he could tell they were both surprised to find Starscream in a talkative mood- with an Autobot _other_ than Ratchet, no less. Perhaps he was suffering from his isolation.

"You thought of names?" Sideswipe grinned, "Isn't it weird giving cute little sparklings Decepticon names? Like, do you think Bonecrusher was always called that? Who the pit names their sparkling Bonecrusher anyway?!"

The corner of Starscream's mouth curved upwards. "I don't doubt Bonecrusher will have picked it out himself. And _I_ won't be naming this sparkling."

"Up to the sire then?"

Starscream didn't answer, smile falling away as he closed himself off. Ratchet sighed, but supposed twenty seconds of conversation was better than nothing.

"There." Sunstreaker sat back, and viewed his work. "Done."

Starscream rose from the stool, and turned at the waist to get a look around the back of his own wing. The twist pulled the armour panels of his torso tight, and Ratchet spotted the slight extension of armour over his middle. It was more than he would have expected at this stage. He would need to read up on how early seekers were meant to start showing.

"Acceptable." Starscream nodded, satisfied with Sunstreaker's work. He looked down his nose at him. "Not bad at all. With skills like yours, one would wonder why you'd choose to walk around in that hideous yellow."

Sunstreaker stood in a beat, the chair he'd sat on falling over. Ratchet nearly landed face down on the floor, tripping over his own seat in his rush to rise and get between them, but Sideswipe was already there, a placating hand on his brother's chest.

"He's just jealous he can't pull it off," Skdeswipe smiled easily, but when Sunstreaker didn't back away, continued with. "He's not worth it, Sunny. Besides, think how he'll be all misshapen and clumsy in a couple weeks-"

Starscream's dark cheeks coloured with red. "How _dare_ -?"

"I think you've trashed each other's delicate egos enough for now, don't you?" Ratchet eased himself between them too, and since Sideswipe was on Sunstreaker's side, felt too compelled by fairness not to stick with Starscream. "Thank you Sunshine, you can take your sidekick there and go."

Sideswipe grumbled about how if _anyone_ was the sidekick, it was Sunstreaker, but left with an arm slung over his brother's shoulder. Ratchet waited until they were gone, before flashing Starscream an awkward grimace of a smile.

"The changes you're going through are perfectly natural."

Starscream rolled his optics, "Primus, you sound like you think I'm a mechling going through his first reproductive upgrade."

"Enough of the sass," Ratchet lightly slapped his still pink cheek, smirking when it caught Starscream by surprise. "And when your paint drys I'm taking you down to the medbay again."

Starscream rubbed his cheek and sneered, "What now? Another weigh in?"

"And a few scans." Ratchet pointed at him as he went through the door. "I wanna take a look at that protoform you've been making, and figure out why it's so big."

 

* * *

 

Starscream knew _exactly_ why it was so big.

Megatron was a fifty foot tower of iron and bad attitude, with shoulders that stretched for days and a chest so big Starscream couldn't wrap his arms around it. He had pedes bigger than some mech's torsos, and thighs as thick as Starscream's waist.

They had all been rather lovely attributes at the time of course, but now, at just over thirty percent into gestation, with a tank that was weighing down on him and straining his internals, he was beginning to regret his choice in romantic partners.

He stepped onto Ratchet's scale and heard the metal groan on it's concrete foundation. Ratchet read the result, glanced at him, but thankfully didn't read it out. He waved Starscream down. Starscream tried not to notice the spring of the metal rising back up again when he stepped down.

"You know the drill," Ratchet gestured to the medberth next, yet another object that was going to groan in obnoxious protest when Starscream climbed onto it.

He was beginning to feel self-conscious.

"You won't tell me who the sire is," Ratchet was speaking, his back to him as he readied a scanner. "But I need to know the frame type so I can plan accordingly. It's not a seeker, and from the weight on the scales, it definitely wasn't a mini-bot."

Starscream reclined on the berth and glared at the ceiling. "A grounder." He muttered.

"Well obviously," Ratchet turned around and frowned down at him. "What _kind_ of grounder?"

Starscream might as well have blurted out Megatron's designation if he was going to have to reveal the frame type. Gun? Mining class? Low-caste labourer? Ratchet didn't have to be his usual observant self to figure it out. Any idiot would know who the sire was.

He scratched at the berth lightly, struggling to decide between exposing his relationship with Megatron,and potentially risking his and the sparkling's health by lying.

Ratchet sighed, gripping the side of the berth. "Primus, you like making my life difficult." He muttered. "Alright, don't tell me the frame-type. How big is he?"

"Big." Starscream said, knowing that wasn't particularly helpful.

Ratchet looked concerned. "Bigger than me?"

Starscream nodded.

Ratchet started adjusting the controls on his scanner. "Bigger than Ironhide?"

Starscream nodded again, ignoring the way Ratchet paused and glared at him.

"Bigger than _Optimus_?"

"About the same." Starscream said stiffly.

Ratchet lowered his scanner and rubbed a servo down his face. Starscream took it that that wasn't a good sign.

"Any discomfort?"

"I have a _thing_ growing inside me." Starscream snarled, "What do you think?"

Ratchet ignored his tone. "Tell me about your gestation tank? Heavy? Tight? Does it ache?"

"Heavy." Starscream muttered, looking away, "Only occasionally painful."

"How painful?"

Starscream shrugged.

Ratchet made a threatening noise, tapping an impatient digit against the scanner.

"Sharp pains," Starscream elaborated. "Like the little monster's stabbing me-"

"It doesn't have limbs yet, Starscream, it can't stab you." Ratchet knocked on his cockpit with his knuckles. "Get this out of the way."

Starscream obeyed, feeling a cool breeze rush into the open space. Ratchet lowered the scanner into it, and Starscream assumed it was so the scan would be clearer without exterior amour blocking the radiation. Ratchet took the scan from the bottom of his cockpit, in front of the pilot's seat. It only took a few moments before Ratchet was removing it, and glimpsing at the screen.

"Hmm..."

Starscream sat up, reaching to snatch it from him, fear spiking when for one insane moment he imagined a miniature duplicate of Megatron appearing on the scan. Ratchet veered back with a frown but turned the screen around, revealing an indistinct mass of silvery metal.

Starscream crinkled his olfactory. "What. Is _that_?"

"Your sparkling," Ratchet's hard expression was somewhat softer as they looked at the scan together. He touched the left middle of the image. "It has a fuel pump. See."

Starscream couldn't make out anything resembling a fuel pump. There was a darkened spot in the centre of the mass, with darker lines running away from it.

"This will be the helm." Ratchet pointed to another section, "and the beginnings of arms and legs, here." He paused, "Doesn't look like there'll be wings."

Starscream felt an odd dip in his mood at the news. He'd known it wouldn't be a seeker for some time now. It was too big, too heavy, but, he'd always hoped...

"I'm not going to lie to you, Starscream." Ratchet began, in a low solemn voice. "This isn't going to be easy. Carrying isn't a walk in the park in itself, but this is going to test even my skills. You're in for a difficult few months, and an even harder delivery after."

"Fortunate that you come so highly recommended then." Starscream sniffed, refusing to be cowed.

He could handle Megatron. His spawn would hardly be as much of a challenge.

 

* * *

 

Megatron must have watched the spy footage a dozen times now. Fuzzy and grainy and silent, and despite the poor quality, the lack of focus, he could make out Starscream's pixelated smile, the dimples in his cheeks, the creases under his optics, the dazzlingly shine of his denta. Nearly six hours of footage and only one smile. Megatron paused it every time, went through it frame by frame, what began as a cynical smirk lifting into a genuine grin.

He thought of the last time he'd seen Starscream's smile, a lazy morning between the sheets together. That was before the carefully constructed trust between them had started slipping through his digits like water, the more he grasped at it the more he lost, till it was but a puddle on the floor, pooled around his pedes. And he'd been so sure he could have saved it.

He felt a prick of sensation behind his optics and had to turn the spy recording off, clearing his vocaliser of a sudden obstruction.

However he felt about Starscream presently, he was glad to see him functional. Though the resentful part of him thought perhaps some time with their enemies would help Starscream learn to appreciate what he actually had here.

Megatron satisfied himself imagining a repentant Starscream rushing back into his arms, gushing apologies and promises. His abrasive, ungratefulness curbed. He imagined turning him away too. Not taking him back. That would certainly teach Starscream to appreciate what he did for him.

He removed the data slug holding the recording and tossed it on a nearby surface. With a yawn he checked his chrono and realised he'd been watching into the early hours of the morning, and the itch of his optics was caused by exhaustion as well as emotion. Typical. Starscream wasn't even present and he was keeping him up all hours of the night.

He dropped to his berth, ignoring the creak and groan of the straining frame- something Starscream regularly complained about. " _Get a new berth_!" He'd hiss, hot and flushed and still panting. " _I'm sick of it announcing to the whole base when you're getting **laid**!_" He had been meaning to oil it, but didn't see much point in it now.

He shifted to be comfortable, the slab now void of pillows in Starscream's absence. But it was how _he_ liked it, he reminded himself. More practical. He didn't need stuffy sheets and comforters to recharge.

He shuttered his optics.

He didn't dream often. Didn't have the imagination for it. Normally his processor supplied him with resurfacing memories; always different somehow, or vague, or simply wrong. This dream was wrong because he was still with Starscream, had him tucked under an arm, had him smiling back at him like everything had worked out after all. It was wrong because they weren't on Earth. Through a window the skyline looked like Vos, and the star systems were Cybertron's neighbours. It was wrong because he was happy, and because the homely apartment they occupied was _theirs_. Because Starscream had said 'yes' a long time ago, and they were conjunxed, and there were toys on the floor, and more berthrooms than a sparkling-less couple would need.

Megatron unshuttered his optics and what invented happiness he'd felt in the dream was smashed out of him by the battering ram of realisation that it would never be true.

Because Starscream had said 'no', and no amount of dreaming was going to change that.

 

* * *

 

Ratchet hadn't realised before Starscream and his condition had arrived at the _Ark_ , but the vast majority of his comrades appeared to be less than clueless about what the carrying process actually entailed. He had already been planning on forcing Starscream into a crash course on the matter, not just to help him through the next couple of months but hopefully _prevent_ him from getting into this situation again, and there was nothing to stop him from adding a few more names to the class register.

After condemning Sidewipe and Sunstreaker, and a vast majority of the other younger warriors to his 'lecture', word had gotten around that he was on the warpath and handing out 'inventive punishments'. The suggestion only increased Ratchet's motivation to force them into the lecture. Learning about the reproductive mechanics of their _own_ frames was _not_ a punishment for stars sake. Bunch of immature-

Skydive turned into the corridor ahead of him, spotted him a moment later, then stumbled in his haste to retreat.

"You!" Ratchet pointed, knowing exactly why the mechling was trying to avoid him. "The main conference room, two hours."

Skydive clutched at the bulkhead, greatly distressed. "But Ratch'," he squeaked. "I already know-"

"What?" Ratchet arched a brow. "You tell me what you know, and if you're thorough enough, I'll think about letting you off."

Predictably, Skydive's cheeks coloured. "Um."

Ratchet continued on his way. "And bring your brothers!" He called back.

Now all he had left to track down was Bumblebee. And Ironhide, of course, for that crack he'd made about 'crazy-seeker-hormones' the other cycle.

 

* * *

 

Starscream wasn't in the best of moods to find himself crammed into the Autobot conference room with the rest of the idiots. Ratchet seemed to have dragged along every unfortunate spark he'd come across in the corridor today, as everyone, from clueless Dinobots, to Optimus Prime himself, were fighting for seats at the back of the room, along the wall, where they must have been hoping Ratchet wouldn't think to call on them.

His own status as a prisoner meant he had no such luck securing himself a place of inconspicuousness. Ratchet had him sitting at the head of the table, right next to the huge hologram projector that was going to be displaying Primus-knew what sort of horrific medical case files.

"Prime." Ratchet called across the room, noticing his commander attempting to hide his huge frame behind Bumblebee by ducking his head. Ratchet pulled out another seat at the front, opposite Starscream, and nodded. It was a firm suggestion to his Prime that he took it.

Prime slowly made his way to the front, looking about as pleased to be present as a grumbling Ironhide was.

Satisfied that everyone was seated and no one was able to sneak out of the door unseen, Ratchet switched on the projection.

 _'Reproduction: The Basics_ ' appeared as a large hologram, along with a random picture of some sparkling. It looked like a minibot.

The room broke out in collective groans and one panicked, furious whisper of ' _that's_ what we're here for?!'. Starscream sank lower in his chair, wishing he could disappear into the floor.

Ignoring his -and everyone else's- death glares, Ratchet cleared his vocaliser and began.

"You're all here today because there appears to be a gap in the vast majority of his faction's education."

"We know how sparklings are made, Ratchet," Sideswipe piped up. "Just because no one can figure out how _Starscream_ ended up-"

"One more word out of you and you'll be demonstrating the contraceptives!" Ratchet threatened before Starscream could get up and _throw his chair_ at the obnoxious twin.

Sideswipe shut up and slumped down his seat.

"Clearly, I am not here to give 'The Talk' to a bunch of idiots and a Decepticon," Ratchet continued, pressing a button on a remote so the projection would change again, this time to show a picture of a spark chamber. "I'm here to tell you how to prevent the arrival of unwanted surprises, and how to spot one that might be coming."

Starscream folded his arms, feeling like that lesson might be a little too late for him.

"And then we can talk about more interesting things," Ratchet continued with a sigh, "Like gestation and sparkling emergences-"

There was a chorus of displeased noises around the room. Most of them sounded young.

"And don't worry!" Ratchet announced over them all, brandishing the remote. "I have _plenty_ of visual aids for the latter."

Starscream was beginning to feel nauseous. He wasn't sure looking at images of carriers in the middle of an emergence was going to make him feel any better about his own impending arrival.

He glanced to the side, and saw Prime looked a little pale beneath his face mask.

Well, if Prime fainted, at least _something_ good will have come from such an unpleasant experience.

 

* * *

 

Skywarp hadn't gotten as far in life as he had just doing what he was told and taking people's words for things. Soundwave had told him and Thundercracker that the Starscream-Situation was not their concern, and that they should focus their energy on keeping the airforce in line and preventing Ramjet from teaming up with Motormaster and staging a hostile takeover of the entire faction.

Skywarp wasn't the sort of mastermind that could keep up with manipulations and secret plots and usurping though. That's what _Starscream_ was good at, and that was why Skywarp was going to bring him back. He was a pain of a trine-leader but he could deal with Ramjet far more efficiently than him, so really, he was actually obeying Soundwave in the long run by going behind his back like this.

Unfortunately, he had no idea why the Autobots were holding Starscream for such an extended period, and Soundwave wasn't particularly forthcoming in explaining why he didn't think Starscream was really quarantined on the _Ark_.

And the only evidence of Starscream's current condition lay on a spy recording he hadn't had the clearance to see- a recording that was currently in the grasp of a possessive, emotional Megatron.

So, taking his life into his own hands, Skywarp teleported through the locked door of his commander's quarters.

The room was dark, musky with the smell of unwashed, sulking warlord, and rumbling with Megatron's deep snoring. Whew, he was taking a depression nap.

Past the first hurdle, Skywarp exhaled with relief, then tip-toed to Megatron's door to unlock it and let Thundercracker in.

His trine-mate was pale with nerves, glancing aside before he stepped in. "This is a bad idea." He whispered, sneaking in behind Skywarp.

"Shh," Skywarp hissed, "Just find the recording."

Skywarp had been in Megatron's room before -long story involving Starscream and an attempt on his life. It had been an open, decluttered room back then. Empty shelves and little storage space of what few possessions he bothered to own. Megatron was known for living lightly. So Skywarp was surprised to find the room such a mess now. Weapons piled in a corner, the desk covered in file work that looked like it should have been done _years_ ago.

"TC?" He whispered, hearing his trine-mate trip and hiss as he stubbed his toe on something.

" _What_ , Skywarp?"

"Was Screamer _living_ with Megatron?"

Thundercracker paused, taking a look around too, frown contemplative,

Skywarp picked up a datapad from the desk and switched it on with his thumb. The notes on it were scribbled and messy with some sort of chemical equation. He turned it around and showed it to Thundercracker. It was quite obviously in Starscream's script.

Thundercracker nodded slowly. "I guess so."

"You didn't know?"

" _You_ didn't."

"Yeah, but he doesn't tell me anything. No one does."

"He doesn't tell me anything either, Warp."

"Yeah but-"

There was a grunt from the berth, it's old frame groaning as the huge frame on it shifted. They froze, and waited. A deep sigh signalled Megatron stilling once again.

Skywarp exhaled shakily. "You nearly woke him." He whispered harshly.

Thundercracker made a vulgar gesture with his middle finger and moved away, looking through the busy shelves.

There was a table beside Megatron's berth, and Skywarp's keen optics caught a glimpse of shining metal. The data slug. He scrambled over, knocking into something. Thundercracker hissed and made a furious shushing noise that was actually louder than the sound Skywarp had created in the first place. He ignored him, leaning over the huge arm Megatron had slung over the table to pluck the data slug up.

He did a silent victory dance.

"Let's go " Thundercracker whispered grumpily, "Before you knock anything _else_ over."

Skywarp scoffed, grabbing his wrist for the warp. "You're such a worrier."

 

* * *

 

When the hour long torture session Ratchet had put them all through was finally over, most of the room fled for the door as quickly as they could. Bluestreak attempted to get through it at the exact same time as Jazz and the both of them became stuck in the doorway, causing a literal traffic jam.

Starscream rolled his optics, waiting for everyone else to leave so Ratchet would take him back to his little room and he could bury his face in his pillow and will the embarrassment of the day to fade away.

"Beyond the thirty percent mark, the sparkling's protoform will be a visible mass, yes?"

Starscream looked up, and it seemed not everyone had fled the room as soon as possible. The posh, high caste spy was loitering. Ratchet glanced up from where he'd been closing down the hologram projector. "Yes, Mirage."

"You wouldn't happen to have scans yet, would you?"

It took Starscream a moment, but he realised the spy was talking to _him_. He lifted his helm, looking the spy up and down. "...What's it to you?"

The spy appeared to hesitate. "I was wondering if I could see." He glanced to Ratchet, perhaps hoping the medic would intervene.

Ratchet shrugged, "They're not my scans to show off."

The spy turned hopeful blue optics to Starscream again. "It's been so long since anyone has seen a sparkling."

"A _Decepticon_ sparkling." Starscream reminded him.

"A _Cybertronian_ sparkling. We aren't born into factions." Mirage countered.

Clever, Starscream thought. He nodded to Ratchet, and with a poorly hidden smile, the medic unsubspaced the blurry pictures of the little blob thing that was allegedly his sparkling.

Mirage took them gratefully, a smile pulling at his pretty, expensive features. Starscream wasn't sure what exactly he was seeing in those blurry pictures that was something to smile over, and why he himself hadn't been that happy when he'd seen them. Mirage made some compliment about how healthy it looked, and how exciting it must be.

Starscream said nothing, humming with a vague nod.

"Alright Mirage." Ratchet interrupted gently, "I've got a busy schedule."

Mirage got the hint, handing the scans back and smiling gratefully. "Of course."

He left, and within minutes Ratchet was gripping Starscream's shoulder, firm and grounding. "I think we need another talk, you and I."

Starscream honestly couldn't imagine anything worse.

 

* * *

 

Skywarp and Thundercracker hurried into their quarters with their stolen quarry, the data slug held tightly in Skywarp's clammy nervous hand.

"Quick." He called Thundercracker. "We need to get this back before he wakes up-"

Thundercracker sealed the door behind them and came to sit on the berth just as Skywarp slipped the data slug into a jack and watched the screen load. The footage was silent and poor quality, Ravage having had to film from a distance to avoid detection.

The Autobot medbay was bright orange, so it's occupants stood out easily against the walls. When the footage started Starscream was already sat in a large chair, spinning around, looking bored. He wasn't restrained, nor did he appear to be dying. There was some evidence of repairs though, missing paint up his left side. 

"So much for quarantine." Skywarp muttered, seeing now why Soundwave had been so sure it was a lie.

They watched about ten minutes of footage, focusing on Starscream and his movements and his wings most of all, looking for any hidden tells as to what was going on. It was too blurry to read lips, but wings were large and obvious.

Eventually the medic turned and said something, and Starscream rolled his optics and stood to pick up a tool and pass it to him.

Thundercracker's digit shot out and paused the footage.

Skywarp knew exactly why.

"He's... Fat." He whispered, staring at the tilt Starscream's cockpit on the screen. Where it would ordinarily sit diagonally, a straight line down, it was at an angle, like his fuel tank had expanded and pushed it outwards towards the bottom.

"No." Thundercracker replayed the footage, shot by shot, so they could watch in detail as Starscream turned and showed off the change in his silhouette.

"He's sparked."

 


	6. Chapter 6

Thundercracker was doing his best not to panic but Skywarp running from one end of the room to the other hyperventilating wasn't doing much to help that. After several minutes of watching him, Thundercracker threw out an arm and clotheslined him. Skywarp ran into his extended forearm, catching himself in the throat, and hit the floor with a wheeze.

All it achieved was the briefest of silences before Skywarp was scrambling upright again, gasping, "We have to tell Megatron!"

"No!" Thundercracker grabbed at Skywarp, just in case he decided to take the initiative and warp himself into Megatron's room to spill all the energon beans. "Have you _seen_ Megatron? You can't tell him something like this! He's a _mess_ -"

"That's why we have to tell him!"

"He is not in any fit state to hear it!" Thundercracker shook Skywarp, needing him to understand that.

Skywarp shook back angrily. "If anything is gonna snap him outta his depression vortex-"

"If _anything_ is going to make it worse, it's this!" Thundercracker released him with a light shove to pinch the bridge of his nose, the sharp pains of a growing migraine starting behind his optics. "We can't get his hopes up."

"You saw the footage." Skywarp glared. " _You're_ the one who said he was sparked."

"I'm not saying he's not sparked." Thundecracker murmured. "He is. He definitely is. You saw his cockpit. And his thrusters had started to shorten for the weight distribution-"

"If we're so sure then why not get Megatron's hopes up? You _said_ he wanted to make gross little sparklings with Starscream-"

"And that Starscream _doesn't_." Thundercracker snarled.

Skywarp fell silent, arms dropping to his sides awkwardly. He clearly hadn't considered that angle.

"...Was that what their argument was about?" He asked quietly. "Sparklings?"

Thundercracker rubbed his temples, feeling exhausted as he nodded. "Among other things..."

"So they broke up? They're finished? That's why Megatron's doing an impression of a junkyard hermit?" Skywarp scoffed and kicked at the leg of a chair. "Typical Screamer."

Skywarp didn't know the whole story, so Thundercracker refrained from snapping at him for automatically blaming Starscream. From experience, their trine-leader was almost always the cause of his and Megatron's frequent disagreements, both professional and personal. But in this case, Thundercracker had seen the position Starscream had been cornered into and could understand his point of view well enough.

"Megatron wanted to take him as a conjunx." He explained, and felt not unlike a gossiping spy because of it.

When Skywarp turned again to face him, his optics were like huge red spotlights, mouth opening with an audible gasp. "Megatron proposed to him?! And _that's_ what he thought was worth breaking up with him over?! That _jerk_ -"

"Megatron didn't propose." Thundercracker interupted before Skywarp could further insult their absent mate. "It wasn't a proposal. That would imply he actually _asked_."

Skywarp tilted his head in confusion. Thundercracker sighed, knowing he was going to have to elaborate. "It wasn't a 'will you?' it was a 'you _will_ '."

"Oh," Skywarp sat on the edge of the berth heavily. "Well, I guess we know Screamer doesn't like being told what to do..."

"I just think we should hold off on telling Starscream's secrets," Thundercracker decided, "At least until we can contact him ourselves."

"But Megatron?" Skywarp sounded conflicted, his loyalty to Megatron and his duty to his trine at war with one another. "That's his sparkling, right?"

Thundercracker blew air out of his vents.'"Primus, I hope so."

 

* * *

 

"You're not a relationship councillor." Starscream muttered.

"No, I'm just the moron who volunteered to look after you until you popped." Ratchet glared.

Ratchet hadn't taken Starscream back to his square little cell-room, but somewhere two decks up. The rooms were lighter and so was the air up there. The room he was taken to looked like a recreational space, but it was empty and void of the disgusting mess a recreation room was usually littered with. Either the Autobots had very efficient cleaning drones or they took care of their ship far better than Decepticons did the _Nemesis_. Starscream made a note to think up stricter punishments for the lazy slobs who left their empty cubes and junk laying around in the future.

There were two cream sofas in the centre of the room, tastefully decorated with brown and white pillows like someone here was a fan of interior decorating. Starscream laid across one and dragged one of the white pillows into his arms. Ratchet took a seat in the middle of the opposite sofa, and sat back, waiting for something.

"What?" Starscream muttered.

"You don't have to tell me who the sire is, but if you're seriously considering leaving that sparkling of yours behind we need to have an equally serious conversation about the other parent who might decide to claim it instead. It would be unfair to the sparkling to let it bond with new caretakers here only to shift it back to the _Nemesis_ later. Those first few weeks are important for social development."

"You don't have it worry about the sire." Starscream glared at the ceiling. The pillow bulged in his arms. "He's not going to have anything to do with any of this."

"When you return to the _Nemesis_ -"

"I won't breath a word." Starscream snarled, "You really think I'm going to wander back there and tell tales about this disaster?!"

Ratchet leant forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Are you in a relationship with him? The sire?"

"Not anymore." Starscream muttered.

"What happened?" Ratchet asked with a sigh, sounding like he was listening to some adolescent's drama over an unrequited crush.

"How is that your business?!"

"I'm trying to understand the circumstances that lead to the conception of this sparkling in the first place." Ratchet kept his tone uncharacteristically even. "You came here early into the gestation process, with a new-spark created by a sire you appear to despise."

The implication left a bad taste in Starscream's mouth. He shook his head, vehemently. Megatron wouldn't do that. The very thought of Megatron even contemplating something like that-

"Whatever you Autobots like to think, rape isn't condoned on the _Nemesis_."

"I never suggested that is was." Ratchet held up his hands. "Megatron's a piece of work, but I know he'd never allow-"

"You don't know a damn thing about Megatron _or_ what he'd allow!" Starscream surged upright, throwing his pillow to the floor with a dull thump. "He's a bullheaded idiot that doesn't think about anyone but himself!"

Ratchet met his gaze silently, the cogs turning behind those clever blue optics of his. Starscream laid back on the sofa and blindly searched the floor for his pillow, pulling it back up to his chest to hide himself behind it.

"Whatever." He muttered lamely. "The sparkling was conceived consensually. So stop panicking over it."

 _Very consensually_ , he thought, his treacherous mind taking him back to the night in question, or the morning. The timing couldn't be exact, certainly not when he'd been so distracted by Megatron's attentions in the first place. 

A silly smile had drifted across his mouth, and he didn't notice until Ratchet cleared his vocaliser loudly. He wiped the stupid expression away and replaced it with a scowl.

"Consensual," Ratchet murmured, arching a brow. "Certainly looks like it."

Starscream's scowl deepened.

 

* * *

 

Keeping secrets wasn't exactly Skywarp's forte, it was probably why he was never assigned to intel or special ops missions despite being a teleporter. He was far better at _telling_ secrets. Even if they weren't true. He knew that because he'd had seven different meetings with Soundwave over the past year alone because he was -and he was quoting Soundwave here- 'responsible for approximately eighty percent of the faction rumour mill alone'.

He didn't feel that was fair though because he was pretty sure he heard half his gossip from Ramjet in the first place so _he_ had to be at least fifty percent and that math didn't add up.

Keeping Starscream's secret wasn't all that hard though, mostly because Thundercracker knew him well enough not to let him have even a single unsupervised conversation with anyone. It was a system that worked well, because if he didn't _say_ anything to anyone, there was no way the secret could get out, right?

Wrong.

"Just don't think about it." Thundercracker told him.

"Thinking about not thinking about it, is just gonna make me _think_ about it." Skywarp explained, fidgeting outside the command centre doors, inside which Soundwave lurked, monitoring Autobot activities. "You should go in and tell him I'm sick."

"He'll know I'm lying," Thundercracker checked his chrono, "And he'll dig around for _why_ I would lie. I don't have the same mental shielding as Starscream-"

"What about me?!" Skywarp squeaked. "He's gonna know I know something straight away."

"Just start thinking about that annoying song? The advert for the human insurance company. Soundwave won't stay in your head for long with that."

That was a good idea actually. Skywarp called the jingle up, muttering it under his breath as he entered the code for the command centre and stepped in, projecting the annoying jingle as loudly as he could in his own mind. ' _LIKE A GOOD NEIGHBOUUUR, STATE FARM IS THERE!'_

Soundwave's head snapped away from the monitors and turned in his direction, visor flaring with indignity. _STATE FARM IS THERE!!_ Skywarp shouted internally, scurrying quickly towards his monitor station. Soundwave's gaze followed him suspiciously, and Skywarp wondered if perhaps he was overdoing it.

"Like a good neighbour..." He sang to himself quietly, keeping his gaze low as he noticed Soundwave's ominous approach. Oh _crud_.

"Skywarp." Soundwave intoned.

Skywarp hummed, only glancing upwards quickly so Soundwave couldn't get a good look at his face and the _deceit_ hidden there.

"You are hiding something."

_LIKE A GOOD NEIGH-_

A presence pushed on the back of his mind. Skywarp scrambled to throw up his mental shielding, but it was Starscream who had taught him to do it in the first place and their lesson had ended after ten minutes of shouting when Starscream gave up and called him too stupid. Soundwave gave him but a mental nudge, and Skywarp's shielding collapsed.

_like-a-good-neighbour-state-farm-is-there-like-a-good-neighbour-state-farm-is-_

"- _going to make it worse, it's this!"_

Skywarp's processor turned like a switch, forced in a whole other direction by Soundwave's clever mental manipulations, telepathic fingers searching through his memory files.

Thundercracker's worried, stressed face filled his mind's eye, " _We can't get his hopes up_."

"Argh!" Skywarp yelped, before the rest of the memory could play. Not that it needed to, because he immediately started to panic about how Soundwave was now going to find out that Starscream was sparked!

Soundwave veered back with a jolt.

"Oops." Skywarp whispered. Thundercracker was going to kill him.

 

* * *

 

Starscream had never realised how complicated Autobots could make simple decisions.

Ratchet had decided the little box room he had been staying in was no longer suitable accommodation for a mech now halfway into his second trimester of gestation. Starscream wasn't inclined to disagree, given that the stairs he had to haul himself up to get to the medbay every cycle were becoming troublesome, and he refused the helping hand of any Autobot out of sheer principle.

The new room would be on the same level as both the medbay and Ratchet's quarters themselves. It would also be double the size of the old one, with a berth to match. Ratchet promised a window too, one that actually opened.

"You seem to be forgetting something, Ratchet," Starscream heard Prowl's voice through the door he had his audial pressed too. "Starscream is a prisoner, not a VIP guest at the _Ark's_ luxury Hotel and Spa!"

Starscream sneered. Like having a window was a luxury privilege.

"We're hardly giving him twenty hour room service and a _foot spa_ , Prowl!" Ratchet argued back. "Put yourself in his considerably swollen pedes for five seconds and use that logical processor of yours to figure out why-"

"He doesn't need a room that large." Prowl continued, stiff as the rod that must have been shoved up his aft. "He's taking up the space of _three_ Autobots-"

"Are you volunteering to be his roommate?"

"Silverbolt is-"

"-Happy to bunk with his brothers." Ratchet growled. "He barely uses the room as it is. Says he prefers the company."

Prowl made a displeased noise, but Starscream was too busy thinking on what Ratchet had said. Silverbolt? That flying brick of an Aerialbot volunteered his room for him? No wonder it had windows if it belonged to the _Ark's_ highest ranking flyer. That had to mean the berth would be comfortable. The one he'd so far been suffering on was playing havoc with his back, and he couldn't recharge on his front when so much as a poke to his belly sent shooting pains through his abdomen.

He gave a soothing rub, ignoring the stiff feeling of growing pressure beneath the plating. 

He zoned back in to hear the rest of the argument, but it appeared Ratchet had won his corner. Prowl's distinct stomp was moving out of audial range. Starscream straightened just before the door opened.

Ratchet stopped short, suspicious.

"Eavesdropping?"

Starscream lifted his hands in defeat, "Decepticon."

"Figures." Ratchet rolled his optics. "Alright, get your stuff. You're moving."

Starscream made a show of looking around the empty little room. " _What_ stuff?"

Ratchet huffed, and passed him to swipe the pillow off the berth. "The more you have of these the better." He said, pushing it into Starscream's arms. "You'll thank me a month and an extra few tonnes down the line."

He guided Starscream out with a hand on the small of his back. He must have forgotten to call a guard escort to help move him, because they traversed the corridors alone, without the suffocating presence of a Ironhide or another Autobot thug.

It wasn't until they reached the next deck up, when Starscream was leaning his excess weight on the handrail, that he realised Ratchet had forgotten to cuff him as well.

He decided to put it down to old age, or Ratchet getting too familiar with him, rather than the thought of him now being so indisposed by this sparkling that he was no longer a credible threat.

Stupid boulder of a sparkling.

 

* * *

 

The worst part about the whole thing was the stupid jingle getting stuck in Skywarp's head. Thundercracker was yelling at him, Soundwave was furious at them both, but all Skywarp could hear was ~ _state farm is there_ ~. He honestly didn't know what was worse.

"This information should have been brought to me immediately." Soundwave's voice was loud to make up for the lack of inflection.

"We thought you already knew," Thundercracker lied.

"Yeah, you're supposed to know everything." Skywarp backed him up.

Soundwave stared at them silently. They clearly weren't helping their case.

"Starscream must be retrieved." Soundwave finally broke the silence, sounding more motivated than he had in weeks. "With or without the cooperation of the Autobots."

"Do you think they know he's sparked?" Skywarp asked, because it had been bugging him. Dumb grounders like Autobots weren't likely to notice the visible symptoms of a carrying seeker, thanks to their cockpit and unique chest-to-waist ratio. _He_ had barely noticed and he _was_ a seeker. But why else would they be keeping him?

"Autobot's knowledge: Undoubtable." Soundwave nodded. "Prime is appalling at deception."

Skywarp wondered why Soundave didn't _do_ something about this sooner if he'd already been suspicious, but he assumed, with Megatron being such a drama queen, he'd probably been reluctant to deal with Prime too.

Which lead to Thundercracker's next question.

"What about Megatron? We're going to have to tell him about the sparkling if we're going to take Starscream back by force."

"Negative. Megatron shall not be informed of Starscream's condition until the Air Commander is safely returned to the _Nemesis_. Megatron: compromised. Any further distractions may cost lives "

"How're we gonna get Screamer back without Megatron though?" Skywarp fretted. "Won't we need to storm the base, and stuff?"

"We will arrange a distraction." Soundwave lifted his chin. "For both Megatron and the Autobots." A red visor locked onto Skywarp. "You alone will retrieve Commander Starscream."

Skywarp's throat tightened. "Oh. No pressure then."

 

* * *

 

Starscream now knew he was taking Silverbolt's old room. What he hadn't known was that Silverbolt, plus brothers, would still be _in_ there, standing around looking awkward, like they'd been waiting for him.

Starscream felt utterly ridiculous when Ratchet nudged him in first, his stupid pillow held against his front so they wouldn't see the way his cockpit was starting to stick out. He glared at them all, daring them to look at him closely and judge. He'd like to see what they looked like a month and a half into carrying a heavy duty mining class mech's sparkling.

"What is this?" He growled.

"An attempt at socialisation." Ratchet shut the door behind him and they were all trapped in together, the Aerialbot's kicking at the floor and glancing at each other worriedly. "They're not seekers, but they fly-"

"They don't have wings." Starscream snapped, not caring that they were right in front of him. One or two of them looked a bit put out, but Silverbolt himself didn't look bothered. In fact, he looked eager to please.

Starscream turned away from them so he was looking directly at Ratchet. "I don't _want_ pity friends." He muttered. "I don't want _any_ friends."

Ratchet placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped around him, smiling at the Aerialbots and twisting him back around like he was a shy youngling and Ratchet the proud creator introducing him to potential trine-mates.

"Take him up and keep it tame." He ordered, patting Starscream's shoulder. "Don't go beyond the security perimeter and don't exceed heights over..." He unsubspaced a little note, reading scribbled hand writing Starscream didn't have the chance to decipher. "...over ten thousand feet. _No_ fancy moves. _No_ showing off, and _you_." Ratchet pointed at Starscream again. "Land in your altmode. On your landing gear. _Not_ your pedes."

Starscream scoffed. "What is this? I _passed_ basic training when I was a youngling. I know how to land!"

"You haven't flown in weeks." Ratchet reminded him.

"And you're a lot heavier now." Air Raid chimed in unhelpfully.

Starscream tightened his arms around his pillow, denta grinding together. He was going to take great joy in knocking _that_ one out of the air with all his excess weight.

Ratchet tugged on his wing a little to get his attention back on him and away from murder. "Don't start slag, now." He muttered, distractedly brushing him off. "It's a nice day, clear skies. You're gonna make the most of it before Prowl realises I let you out and starts to threaten everyone with the brig."

One of the Aerialbots, Skydive, snickered a quiet. "Worth it."

Were these stupid mechlings really risking Prowl's ire just so he could take a few minutes out in the open air? It was more likely it was Ratchet they were doing this for, but-

Ratchet's com beeped, he glanced at it. "Okay, that's Jazz. Prowl is suitably distracted." He stepped away from the door, arms open. "Go make the most of it."

 

* * *

 

Soundwave was a brilliant strategist.

Skywarp wondered why he'd never noticed that before, then realised it was probably difficult to hear Soundwave's steady even voice over the sound of Starscream's obnoxious screech so it was likely he'd always been this clever, the room had just never been quiet enough for him to hear it.

He had planned a raid. Which would have been standard stuff if it had been a _real_ raid. It wasn't apparently, because It was just a distraction to lure the Autobots away and keep Megatron busy while someone, him, entered the _Ark_ to retrieve Starscream. It was more complicated than that though, from what Skywarp could tell, because before any of this could go ahead, Megatron had to _get out of bed._

If that mammoth task was somehow achieved, they would then somehow need to motivate him into considering another raid, and so soon after their previous had ended in disaster. Soundwave would then have to do some careful mental manipulation to make Megatron think Soundwave's plan was his plan, ensuring that he chose the same target, and the same strategy, all so they could be sure Skywarp would have the time to warp into the _Ark_ and find Starscream.

 _And_ , Skywarp just learned, somehow get him all the way back to the _Nemesis_ without teleporting, because-

"New-spark; unsuitable for teleportation."

Skywarp blinked. "...What?!"

"It's hard to say how far into gestation Starscream is." Thundercracker poked at the still they'd taken from the security footage, the picture of Starscream mid turn with bump on show. "He must be in his second trimester by now, but any sort of excessive jostling can shock a newspark into reabsorption."

Soundwave nodded.

"I'll be gentle?" Skywarp tried.

Thundercracker gave him a look as if to say, 'it doesn't work like that'. "We'll need a contingency plan for me to get away from the battle." He continued speaking to Soundwave. "Skywarp might not be able to carry Starscream himself-"

"Carry?!" Skywarp blurted, wondering if he'd been asleep for half these decisions.

"That's only if Starscream's in his third trimester by then." Thundercracker explained. "He won't be able to transform, and he won't be able to fly."

"So I'll have to carry him?!" Skywarp cried. "Won't he be heavy?"

Thundercracker opened his mouth, but seemed reluctant to say, as though Starscream would be able to hear him comment on his weight at any distance away.

"Very." Soundwave answered for him. "Megatron is the sire. His sparkling will favour him."

Thundercracker wrinkled his nose. "How do you know that?"

"Coding; dominant."

Skywarp wanted to argue that Starscream's coding was strong stuff too, but he was pretty sure he didn't understand what they were talking about so he kept quiet. Thundercracker sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, so I'll definitely need to be with you if we're going to get Starscream out of there."

"Maybe we should bring the Coneheads." Skywarp mumbled, "Share the load."

Thundercracker let his arms drop to the table with a thump. "He won't be _that_ heavy, Warp."

 

* * *

 

For the first time in weeks Starscream was outside, the sun on his wings, the breeze between his plating, gravel under pede. He would have liked nothing more than to shoot into the air and fly circles around his frumpy Autobot guards. But he couldn't.

It was like he had lead weights tied around his legs.

Three of the Aerialbot's were hovering in bipedal form above him, waiting patiently. Starscream felt heat rise in his face as he ignited his thrusters, took a leap, and found himself wobbling back down to the ground almost instantly.

Terrified he'd lose his balance and fall flat on his face, the Aerialbots scrambled after him, all fretful faces and hands trying to catch him.

"Get off! Get-off!" He snarled, slapping them away. "I'm fine. I'm just... Warming up."

He didn't miss the looks they shared behind his back.

"...Maybe you should take off in jet mode?" Fireflight suggested gently.

Starscream wanted to spin around and punch him.

"Here?" Silverbolt hoovered just above the ground and extended his hand. "It's probably the low grade." He said generously. "You just need a little boost to get going."

Starscream's optics prickled, but it was probably just his protocols acting up. Flying should have been a release, yet here he was, sinking like a stone, having to rely on Autobots to hold his hand like a youngling on his first flight.

His vision blurred so he kept his optics on the ground, praying they wouldn't see.

The Aerialbots were awfully, stiflingly silent though, so they _all_ heard him sniff. Silverbolt landed.

  
"Check the perimeter." He ordered his gestalt brothers. They obeyed him without question. Starscream waited until he'd heard their thrusters ignite and take to the air before he lifted his head again, wiping his nose and clearing his vocaliser.

"Let's try again?" Silverbolt suggested gently, like Starscream was one of his hapless brothers. "And stay low, just in case-"

"In case I nose dive and leave a crater." Starscream interupted. He smacked away Silverbolt's arm, turning back towards the _Ark_. "Forget it. Stupid idea anyway-"

"You can let the fear of falling stop you from flying!" Silverbolt called him back.

Starscream looked at him, stupid little wingless flying Autobot he was, stood there with his chest puffed out. "I know how you feel."

"Oh really?" Starscream raised a brow, waiting.

"I..." Silverbolt slumped again, nervous. "I- I'm scared of heights."

Starscream had no clever comeback for that because it was the most ridiculous thing he had _ever_ heard.

Silverbolt must have known that, but he was rubbing his arm sheepishly and smiling anyway. "I can't believe I just told you that."

"You're lying." Starscream decided. "You pity me, and you're lying. I've seen you in the air-"

"I try not to look down." Silverbolt admitted with a childish shrug. "Sometimes I can't help it, but it seems to work for me."

"You're _designed_ to fly." Starscream sneered at him, wondering if he was dense. "You were- you are _literally programmed_ to _fly_."

"So are you." Silverbolt extended his hand again. "You just need a little boost."

Starscream looked between the bot and the hand that was extended to him. It felt like Silverbolt was offering was more than just a lift. Something softened in Starscream - his carrying protocols getting to him again, making him sappy. Against his better judgement he took the offered hand. Silverbolt smiled, and together they ignited their thrusters and with a little tug from an extra surge of firepower, they took to the air, climbing up and up.

Silverbolt kept his gaze on the clouds, and Starscream began to wonder if he really _was_ scared of heights and hadn't just spouted all that nonsense to get a sparked seeker in the air.

They broke through the thick clouds and began to glide. Silverbolt's fingers slipped from his. Starscream began to trust his own thrusters again, and let them separate. He watched as Silverbolt transformed, and followed suit.

Jet-mode wasn't as comfortable as it should have been. Starscream felt a little like a stuffed bird because of his expanded gestation chamber, but he could still fly.

The other Aerialbots had been drawn back by the sound of their take off, and they joined them in the sky. Starscream wasn't as deft and graceful as he usually was, but he could still outfly the Aerialbots.

 _No showing off_ , Ratchet had said.

Well, if he couldn't show off to the _Aerialbots_ , what was the point of all this?

He shot off ahead, the bots following easily, hovering above and beneath and behind. He threw in a twist, and watched as Air Raid copied him from below, playfully mirroring.

" _Keep it tame_." Silverbolt's voice ordered over an open channel.

Starscream ignored him, pulling up and into a loop, opening his flaps to get that extra height, make it spectacular. He was at the highest point, when something clenched.

He gasped aloud, flaps closing, instinctively leaning left where the worst of the pain was and sent himself into a spin.

He fell. Spinning. And dropping. And dropping. His abdomen was on fire, in knots, like something was trying to burst it's away out of him. The ground was growing closer. He could barely focus on his impending crash. The sparkling.

"Starscream!" Someone shouted through the open comm.

The pain was blinding him. He didn't even have the sense to transform back. Fingers were brushing his armour, trying to grab him.

" **Starscream**!" Silverbolt yelled, not over the comm but in his audial, free falling with him.

He felt cold and hot all at once, the sharp stabbing cramps worsening and worsening, until-

-until his knees scraped gravel, and he must have blacked out, because he was on the ground, in bipedal mode, arms around his middle, Silverbolt panting in his audial.

"Ratchet!" Silverbolt was shouting at someone. A hand was on Starscream's forehead, keeping his helm from lolling forward. "Get him inside, and get Ratchet-!"

"The sparkling," Starscream mumbled, letting his helm fall back onto Silverbolt's shoulder. "I think... I killed..."

Silverbolt was shushing him, but the last thing Starscream heard before the pain overwhelmed him was an approaching Ratchet, furiously calling him a 'fragging moron.'

 


	7. Chapter 7

Starscream woke up and someone was holding his hand. Someone with big warm palms, thick strong fingers. For a brief moment, through the drugs and the pain, Starscream thought it was Megatron.

He opened an optic a fraction, squinting through blurred vision and bright lights. The hand around his own was blue. Starscream recognised it as Prime's, not Megatron's. But if he closed his optics again, focused on the strong grip and the distracted slide of a thumb against his clammy palm, then it _could_ be Megatron. He wanted it to be.

"-something stronger," he heard Ratchet's voice, somewhere in the distance, and felt the prick of a needle entering one of his fuel lines. His hand was squeezed comfortingly, but he was already drifting off again, the throb of his abdomen falling to the back of his fogging mind.

He wondered if the new-spark had made it...

 

* * *

 

"This isn't a good idea," said Skywarp, who had come up with the idea.

Which was exactly why it wasn't a good idea.

"Ordinarily I'd agree, but we're fresh out of sensible plans." Thundercracker said.

"Affirmative." Soundwave added his opinion.

Skywarp shifted his footing. Before him towered Megatron's door, which wasn't exactly towering because it was _taller_ than anyone else's, it just felt that way right now. Skywarp thought about entering, and doing what he had jokingly suggested he should do, and shuffled again.

Thundercracker looked between him and the door. "Are you going to do it or not?"   
  
"I just realised!" Skywarp suddenly had another idea, one that wasn't going to end with him as a purple smear on the floor of Megatron's quarters. He turned to his trine-mate and smiled, "You can do it!"

"It would be suspicious if I did it." Thundercracker shrugged cooly.

"Affirmative." Soundwave agreed again.

Skywarp took a brief moment to glare at Soundwave before turning to his trine-mate again. "This isn't in-character for me either! In fact, it's more out of character for _me_ than it is you!"

"I would never disrespect my commander."

"You disrespect Starscream all the time!"

"That's affectionate disrespect." Thundercracker said without a hint of irony. "Disrespecting Megatron's going to end with my wings mounted on a battle standard."

"What about _my_ wings?" Skywarp flapped them. "What about _**my** wings_, Thundercracker!?"

"This was your idea." Thundercracker reminded him again.

"Affirmative."

"Soundwave," Skywarp stared at him. "Would it kill you to take my side?"

Soundwave stared him down silently.

He was probably just mad that Skywarp had dared to criticise his progress -or lack thereof- with Megatron. Clearly, the Soundwave Method Of Motivation was not working in this scenario. It was too gentle. Which had led to Skywarp's idea.

" _Let's use the Starscream Method Of Motivation instead_!" He'd suggested, like a fragging idiot.

The Starscream Method Of Motivation had a one hundred percent mortality rate- for anyone attempting it who wasn't Starscream. And last time Skywarp had checked, he definitely wasn't Starscream.

"Megatron's not going to kill you." Thundercracker grasped his shoulder roughly. "After Starscream, you're his favourite."

"You really think this will work?"

Thundercracker pulled a face, looked at Soundwave, who said nothing, then shrugged. "No. But I suppose it's worth a try."

Skywarp squared his shoulder's anyway. "Alright. If I don't survive this, tell Starscream to name the sparkling after me."

Thundercracker nodded, watching him warp through to the other side of the door.

 

* * *

 

News of Starscream's fall travelled fast. Silverbolt had helped Ratchet carry him back inside, but Prime was upon them before they were metres over the threshold. Silverbolt had been all ready to witness an argument as to why Starscream had been outside in the first place, but before he could open his mouth to explain, Starscream had been swept out of his arms, Ratchet barrelling up the corridor with Prime hot on his tail, shouting medical terms Silverbolt had no hope of understanding.

And now he was here with his brothers in the Rec Room, because it was on the same floor as the medbay, and they didn't actually have a waiting-room to wait in.

"What happened?" Fireflight murmured, seemingly to himself. "Why'd he just...drop?"

"Someone musta knocked into him." Slingshot snapped as he paced, angry and accusatory.

"No one knocked into him." Silverbolt gestured for him to sit down beside him. "He... He went into a spin he couldn't get out of and-"

"--He's _Starscream_." Slingshot sneered, but there was a hint of admiration to his tone. "He doesn't get into anything he can't get out of."

"If you had an extra tonne strapped to your front, how well would you fly?" Skydive pointed out.

"We should have caught him." Air Raid said miserably.

"We did catch him." Slingshot protested.

"No, Silverbolt caught him," Air Raid glanced at him. "And crash landed-"

"It wasn't a crash." Silverbolt mumbled, but he was fairly sure he'd stripped no less than three layers of paint off his and Starscream's knees. He was probably going to get complaints about the latter when Starscream was up and ranting again.

 _If_ , a treacherous little voice hissed in his own head.

"We should go see him." Fireflight straightened up hopefully.

Silverbolt couldn't imagine Ratchet would be pleased with the five of them milling about his medbay whilst he was trying to repair a carrying enemy seeker. "We'll be in the way-"

"We'll be supportive." Fireflight continued anyway, jumping up. "Like an acting trine for him. It would suck if one of us were injuried and we woke up in a medbay with no one but Ratchet for company."

Silverbolt did agree privately that that would probably suck.

"Ratchet will-"

"We'll be in the corridor outside." Air Raid stood with Fireflight and nodded. He looked to Silverbolt. "Don't you want to see him?"

Silverbolt _did_ want to see him. If anything did happen to Starscream, or the new-spark, he'd feel responsible. The very least they could do is offer condolences.

He stood up, and his brothers followed him.

 

* * *

 

The hand Optimus held was limp but he never let go of it, watching Starscream''s dark optics and parted lips, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He stroked his thumb across a cool palm, because if Starscream had even the slightest bit of awareness whilst he was under, Optimus wanted to him feel something beyond just pain.

"...How could this happen?"

Ratchet was in the middle of disconnecting sensors, his expression stoic, too stoic, for him to be feeling nothing about the unexpected turn of events. "He was flying. He fell."

"Seeker's don't fall." Optimus began.

"I know that Prime!" Ratchet snapped, picking up a scanner and manually moving Starscream's cockpit back. "The stupid showoff was performing Swan Lake in the sky like he's still some agile little fairy..."

Ratchet's complaints trailed into grumbling. Optimus didn't bother straining to hear. He watched as Ratchet scanned the bottom of Starscream's cockpit, and frowned.

Optimus squeezed Starscream's limp hand again. Guilt nagged at him, and in absence of an explanation for what had happened, he wondered if they had caused this, if it could have been preventable?

Ratchet had now moved to the end of the medberth and was lifting Starscream's pedes into stirrups for what was obviously going to be a pelvic examination. It was all the confirmation Optimus needed to know that whatever had happened, the new-spark was at risk.

Ratchet had some uncomfortable looking equipment at the ready. Optimus looked away when he heard the click of a panel opening, instead focusing on the lithe digits loosely intwined with his own as Ratchet talked to himself.

"No leaks," he muttered, straightening up again.

Optimus's spirits lifted. "The sparkling is alright?"

"No." Ratchet snapped, without looking up. "I'm going to need to operate. The protoform's too big."

Optimus thought he was mishearing, because by his understanding and thanks to the lecture Ratchet had given them all the other cycle, a gestation chamber was designed to expand with a growing protoform. "I thought the gestation chamber-"

"The gestation chamber's fine." Ratchet started lining up equipment. "The rest of him isn't. It's putting strain on his tanks, on his fuel pump, his filtration system-" Ratchet looked at him, making a crushing motion with his hands. "Everything. It's why he's purging all the time-"

"He is?" Optimus felt another wave of sympathy.

"I'm going to have to move things around. Create some room," he stroked his chin contemplatively, "Add some extra plating."

Optimus blinked.

Ratchet held his hand out in front of his own torso, to show what he meant by creating room. "He won't be able to fly. Or transform."

"Ever?"

"No," Ratchet snorted, "I'll put everything back as it was afterward. He's going to need reconstructive surgery after the emergence anyway."

Optimus's winced, knees weak at the thought of Starscream going through that process. "Ah... Yes."

"Now," Ratchet placed his hands on his hips and gave him a firm look. "Are you going to watch and distract me with all the faces you keep pulling, or can I get started with the fragging operation?"

Optimus reluctantly slipped his hand out of Starscream's, giving it a comforting pat before stepping away.

"And tell those idiots waiting outside to go to recharge," Ratchet threw over his shoulder, picking up a tool designed for cracking armour plating apart.

Optimus nodded and stepped out of the bright medbay and into the softly lit corridor. Ten bright blue optics stared back at him. The Aerialbots.

"They're going to be fine." He reassured them. "Starscream and new-spark both. You can go. It's going to be a long night."

Shoulders dropped with relief, but no Aerialbot made any motion to leave. They began leaning against the bulkhead, settling in for the night. Optimus didn't have the spark to change his suggestion into an order. He picked a spot along the bulkhead next to Silverbolt, and with a nod, joined them for the night.

 

* * *

 

One second into Skywarp's plan and he'd already messed up. 

Megatron was awake, and seemed to have been occupying himself with his extensive library of datafiles. Dataslugs were scattered on the floor, and around him, like a fortress, were stacked datapads. He lifted his head and glared at Skywarp from over the top of the fortress's battlements when he appeared, uninvited, with a flash of purple.

Skywarp was surprised, and had expected Megatron to be in the middle of another depression nap, so he's  have a few more moments to brace himself and work up the courage to do the 'motivating' he'd come here to do.

"Hi," he said, like a weirdo.

Megatron continued to glare.

"Um, I just came to see... how you were?"

Megatron said nothing.

"...Soundwave said you'd spent a lot of time recharging so I- I kinda- I mean, I'm glad you're up!" Skywarp clapped his servos together with enthusiasm, wondering if this meant he didn't have to use the Starscream Method Of Motivation after all. "Why don't we get out of this stuffy room that smells like stale oil and go take a walk? Or plan an attack? Or something like that?"

Megatron didn't respond. After an awkward moment of intense staring, his helm lowered again, refocusing on whatever datapad he was reading.

Skywarp tried to peer at him over the top of the stacks of datapads. "Did you mean to build a castle around yourself or-"

"Leave me." Megatron finally spoke. "You are beneath my notice."

Skywarp wanted to ask if basic hygiene was beneath his notice too, but stopped himself because he didn't want Megatron using his corpse to decorate his little makeshift datapad fortress.

Then remembered that he was actually _supposed_ to be provoking Megatron, and before he could lose his nerve, he stepped forward and kicked the tallest tower of datapads.

They all came down in a loud, prolonged clatter, tumbling to the floor and over Megatron himself. Megatron sat in the middle, the datapad he'd been reading still in his lap. Slowly, he raised his head.

"Oops." Skywarp smirked, doing his very best impression of Starscream, striking an arrogant pose.

Megatron was on his pedes in a flash. A scream burst out of Skywarp's mouth before he could stop himself. Megatron's fist was reaching for him, to strangle him likely. He made another undignified _squeak_ before warping away to the air barracks.

He stood there for a moment, spark beating, wondering if angering Megatron like Starscream would have had worked.

Deep within the base, echoing and faint, Skywarp could hear bangs and clangs, and a furious warlord shouting his name.

He smiled, proud. Yes, Megatron wanted to flog him but at least he was out of his room.

 

* * *

 

Starscream's mouth was dry, like he had been sleeping with it open for some time. His glossa felt rough against the mesh of his mouth. Something prodded his lower lip, something flimsy and hollow.

"Drink." A disembodied voice ordered.   
  
Too tired to sit up, to even open his optics, Starscream parted his lips and let the hollow tube into his mouth. He pushed his glossa to it's opening, and rich fresh energon began to fill his mouth. He drank it down greedily, thirsty and starved for the taste of _real_ energon after weeks of low grade.

The straw was pulled away. He didn't have the strength to lift his head and follow it.

With new energon filling his frame, he found energy enough to look. Bright lights. Orange walls. Ratchet's frown. He wanted to ask what had happened, but he wasn't quite there yet. He'd rather just lay still and wait for the feeling to return to his toe pedes.

Toe pedes he couldn't see for some reason.

His cockpit seemed a lot more pronounced than it should have been. So pronounced he couldn't see past it. He made a questioning noise, and a hand fell to his helm, stroking it.

"You're fine. Everything's fine." Ratchet was reassuring warmly. "The new-spark is okay."

Starscream felt panic subside. Fine. Everything was fine. The bottle and straw appeared in front of him again, Ratchet encouraging him to drink. He did, feeling not unlike a helpless sparkling himself.

"-Want you to recharge through the night-" Ratchet was saying, "-keep you here- --stay with you."

Starscream's head was too heavy to nod in agreement. He settled for a slow blink instead. At some point the lights lowered, a blanket was laid over him, a heated pad slipped between his dull aching abdomen and the sheets. It helped, and Starscream soon found himself falling to sleep faster than he had in weeks.

 

* * *

 

Into the early hours of the morning, Starscream became aware of visitors coming in and out. Ratchet's snapping voice was enough to indicate they weren't welcome. He heard the phrase 'overexert him' and 'let him recharge' on more than one occasion. He would have been annoyed at the mollycoddling if he'd been aware enough to feel indignant.

He drifted in and out for a few hours, and in matter of stages, the table beside him went from empty to stacked with what looked like gifted treats. Rust sticks mostly. Ratchet must have shared his preferences with his well wishers, whoever they were.

Autobots were too soft for their own good.

The more lucid he grew, the more he became aware of a great many changes. He was in pain, not so much pain as he had been when he fell, but considerably more than he had before. He lifted a lazy hand and let it drift over the afflicted area, tracing fresh weld seams that hadn't existed before, smoothing his palm over armour that was far bulkier. He couldn't see over the blanket, or his vastly extended cockpit, but he felt like the he'd been turned into a _square_ , the once flattering curve of his waist into his hips was gone.

"What have you done to me?" He demanded, to wherever Ratchet was in the room.

"Thank you for saving my life, Ratchet." Ratchet's mocking voice rose from somewhere to his left. "Oh, it's no bother Starscream. It only took a sleepless night and half my part reserves."

"Shut up." Starscream muttered, finally cracking an optic open. Everything was blurry, and he strained to see. "The sparkling?"

"Safe. Healthy." Ratchet's face appeared as an ill defined blob above him. "Despite it's attempts to end you both."

Starscream couldn't remember much of what happened. He'd been flying. He'd... he'd probably been doing something he shouldn't. He frowned, confused and guilt ridden-

"-not your fault." Ratchet was speaking, seemingly reading his mind.

Starscream glared in disbelief. "Oh, it wasn't, was it?"

"I'm not saying that to save your feelings." Ratchet growled. "It wasn't your fault. Your fuel tank ruptured."

Starscream blinked. "It what?"

"I warned that the protoform was going to be difficult for you to carry. It happened sooner than I expected, but there wasn't much room left for growth. Gestation nanites are stupid like that. They don't know what 'no more room' means. They keep building anyway."

It was probably the drugs, but Starscream still felt confused.

Ratchet sighed, "Your gestation tank took on your other internal parts in a fist fight for space, and it won. I had to operate, patch you up, and... make room."

Starscream absently touched his cockpit, realising now why he was so misshapen from his repairs.

"It's reversible. And I will reverse it after the emergence." Ratchet paused. "Or sooner, if you need me to."

"...It's a big sparkling," Starscream said, rather stupidly.

"You've only got a little waist." Ratchet smiled, then it turned into a smirk. "Or you _did_. This brings me onto our next problem. You'll have to be induced."

Starscream stiffened with alarm. "Now?"

"No, not _now_." Ratchet snapped. "Some indiscernible point in the future."

"But it'll be weak." Starscream knew enough about medicine that sparklings who came early were always small and sickly.

"Not this sparkling. And not under my watch." Ratchet hooked his thumbs into his hip seams and leant back. "We'll give it a boost of everything it's going to need, make sure it's ready. But if we leave it too late to come out of you, we might not get it out at all."

Starscream didn't particularly like the sound of that. "I suppose I'll have to trust you, medic."

"You _suppose_ ," Ratchet rolled his optics. "Like I haven't been nursing your miserable aft for the last month..." He picked up a random box of rust sticks from the table beside Starscream's berth and shoved them at him. "Eat these and go back to sleep. There's a bucket under the berth if you need it."

Starscream sneered. "For what?"

"New fuel tank." Ratchet pointed, turning back to his work. "You might find it a little more delicate. Don't purge on my floor."

 

 

 

* * *

 

Getting Megatron out of his room had been the hard part. Once he was out, Soundwave had the Constructicons barricade the door shut again.

"Where will he recharge?" Thundercracker asked.

"Lord Megatron has recharged enough." Was all Soundwave said, sounding more than a little terrifying. 

Skywarp, with his teleporting abilities and lack of common sense, easily lured Megatron where they needed him to be. Thundercracker put in a private request for Skywarp to let Megatron chase him around the wash racks for a little while, just to take the edge off the new aroma he'd required in his solitude. Starscream would have been appalled. He wouldn't have let Megatron go half a day without washing off the dirt. They couldn't very well bring him back and present him with anything but Megatron at his best, could they?

Before long they had a miserable, dripping warlord back in the command centre, and Skywarp, having let himself be caught, was now massaging the wing Megatron had grabbed when he finally seized him. Curiously, Megatron's powerful grip hadn't left nasty finger dents. He'd let Skywarp go with little more than a snarl and a shake of his head, seemingly remembering it hadn't been Starscream he'd been chasing, and that had seemed to take some of the sport out of it.

"Is it crumpled?" Skywarp asked Thundercracker when he came to stand beside him, twisting to show him his wing, blocking Thundercracker's view of where Soundwave was trying to get Megatron to read something.

"It's fine." Thundercracker muttered, nudging him away. "He barely touched you."

"Fine." Skywarp huffed, "Next time you can be the bait."

Thundercracker steered him to the side, watching with finger's crossed behind his back as Soundwave shook a datapad at Megatron, and lectured him in his loud monotone. Thundercracker caught parts of their plan. Fuel shortage - Raid - Power station a great distance from the Autobot base---

Megatron moved the datapad out of his face. "And what of our missing Air Commander?" He sneered sarcastically. "Still alive, is he?"

Soundwave paused. "...Affirmative."

"Hm." Megatron snatched the datapad out of his hand and began to move towards the side door that lead to the war chamber. "We'll raid this station. The greater distance may strain us but it'll lessen the chances of an Autobot intervention. I'm not in the mood to suffer Prime's righteousness just yet..."

Thundercracker felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He shared a hopeful glance with Skywarp, and earned a eager smile in return.

The plan was progressing as intended. Before long, they'd have Starscream back, safe, and with any luck, he'd _still_ becarrying. Thundercracker couldn't imagine going into an emergence in the enemy base. It couldn't be anything Starscream would be looking forward to. He deserved to have it here, with him and Skywarp to support him.

And maybe even Megatron, if they both managed to get over themselves that is.

 

* * *

 

"I have to say." Starscream said around a mouthful of cosmic curls. "You Autobots know how to treat your infirm. The only thing you're likely to get in the medbay of the _Nemesis_ is a visit from a superior, demanding to know how much longer you plan on feeling sorry for yourself."

"Sounds lovely." Ratchet muttered, not really listening. "And _chew_. I can hear you shovelling those back. You'll make yourself purge again."

Starscream ignored him, fisting the treats and shoving then all in his mouth at once. He'd never felt so hungry in all his life. More nutrients he supposed. This later stage in carrying meant he was back on full bodied energon, and his mineral and metal intake had tripled. The dull ache of his abdomen and the fogginess of the sedatives Ratchet had given him were doing nothing to lessen his appetite.

"Okay," Ratchet swivelled his chair around and it became clear he'd actually been working on something, not just ignoring his patient. "I've done some research, and having made some calculations after looking over your scans, it looks like I'll be inducing you at around eighty percent into the gestation."

Starscream swallowed a cosmic curl whole and started to choke.

"I said chew!" Ratchet thundered, slapping him on the back and knocking him forward.

"Eighty?!" Starscream wheezed, "but I'm at sixty now! That's- that's two weeks away! It's too soon!"

"You're _almost_ at sixty." Ratchet corrected him. "The new-spark hasn't untethered itself from your spark yet. And I said it _looks_ like."

Starscream let the packet of cosmic curls fall from his hands, suddenly no longer hungry. They spilled across Ratchet's medbay floor. The medic sighed.

"It's too soon." Starscream repeated, fear mounting. "I- I can't-"

Suddenly his hand was squeezed. He looked down to find it encased in Ratchet's warm clever hands. "Yes you can. You're Starscream. I Thought it took more than a little new-spark to bring you to your knees?"

"It's not 'little' though, is it." Starscream muttered, awkwardly pulling his hand away, not wanting Ratchet to feel how it shook. "What will happen, when it untethers?"

"Takes a few hours to descend." Ratchet straightened back up again. "It'll float about in your spark chamber for a bit, but there's an opening to a channel hidden behind your spark. Once the new-spark finds that, it'll travel down until it finds itself in your gestation chamber."

The idea of a spark, someone's _life source_ , being in his gestation chamber weirded Starscream out somewhat.

Ratchet clapped his hands together. "Then the spark takes to the protoform, and you get to spend the rest of the gestation being kicked and punched as the protoform is taken for a couple test drives."

"Oh goody." Starscream growled. "...Does it hurt?"

"Being kicked?"

" _No_ , the... the spark descending."

Ratchet seemed to think. "I haven't experienced it myself, but some say it's the most fulfilling sensation a carrier can experience."

That made Starscream feel a little better.

"And others say it feels like the worst spark burn they've ever had."

Starscream scowled, "I wonder which I'll experience."

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Megatron had never been a superstitious mech, but there were certain things, certain actions, he made sure to perform before ordering his faction, and himself, out on a raid. The pre-mission brief was always done a hour before the first mechs were due to leave, and between then and his own deployment, Megatron needed to focus himself.

Some more sensible (and considerably less fortunate) mechs liked to warm their weapons on the firing range, or in the sparring rooms, readying their frames for potential trouble- and there was almost always trouble. Megatron didn't commit himself to such a boring ritual though. He preferred warming himself up in the same way he had always done, ever since he had been a young, foolish pit fighter.

Yes, sparring was good for heightening the senses, but so was fragging.

And the latter was also considerably more useful when it came to keeping troublesome seekers in line. Seekers such as Starscream. His Air Commander listened to him far better on the battlefield when his sensors were still singing from the euphoric overloads his leader had been gracious enough to give him beforehand.

"You've been in the worst mood this week." Megatron told him, fragging him slow, watching Starscream's optics flutter and cross with every stroke of his spike through his silky valve. "I must have done something to offend you?"

He pressed deep and ground into him, catching all the sensors set further into Starscream's valve. Starscream stiffened and made a soft noise, optics fluttering back offline as he tipped his head all the way back. " _No_..."

Megatron nipped at his neck since he'd been kind enough to expose it. "You killed my scientist."

"A... A human," Starscream shook his head, face contorting. "Don't talk about those disgusting insects when you're supposed to be fragging me."

Megatron drew back and pressed in again, a quick push, and Starscream's thighs jumped either side of his hips. "I _am_ fragging you."

"You're being too gentle." Starscream muttered, but he seemed to be enjoying it anyway. "How will I fight if you've put me to recharge?"

"Perhaps I don't intend for you to fight today."

He continued to move, but Starscream wasn't responding as he should have. A crease marred his brow, and his optics began to brighten with clarity. "What are you talking about?"

Megatron realised he'd spoken carelessly. He had really hoped to finish before having this conversation.

He started moving faster, and managed to move well enough to catch Starscream's most delicate sensors again. Claws extended and dug into his shoulders, Starscream's back arching in delight at his plunging thrusts. He let his hand drift between them, stroking the bottom of Starscream's cockpit before dipping lower and nudging two digits between the mesh at the front of his valve, finding his node and pressing down.

Starscream overloaded with gasping noises, rolling into Megatron's thrusts, Megatron's touches, his wings limp and optics shuttered once again. It was always a honour to see such a deadly warrior in such a state. He kissed Starscream through the last of his thrusts, smiling against a lazy mumbling mouth that tried it's best to reciprocate.

He overloaded with a grunt, slowing down to saviour it, until finally he fell to the side, landing on Starscream's wing. He felt it twitch beneath him.

"What did you mean...?" A breathless voice asked beside him, suspicious and careful. "About not letting me fight?"

Megatron worked his glossa around his mouth, staring at the ceiling. He supposed now would be the best time to tell him. A sated Starscream was normally a calm one.

"It's time we took ourselves seriously."

He heard Starscream snort. "I don't know about you, but _I_ take myself very seriously-"

"No. We. Us. Together." Megatron turned his head to face Starscream's surprised expression on the pillow beside his. "I've chosen you as my mate. As my... my conjunx."

" _You've_  chosen." Starscream said slowly, sitting up. He should have been happy, gleeful. Megatron sat up too, wary of his less than keen reaction. "And suppose I accept? What does 'choosing' me have to do with not fighting?"

"I can't risk the carrier of my future heirs in the field of battle." Megatron lifted his helm higher, straightening his shoulders. He'd known Starscream might have some protests, but there was no other way around it. Starscream could not be both carrier and warrior. 

Starscream didn't say anything for a while, simply staring back at him.

" _What_ \- future- _heirs_?" He hissed darkly.

Megatron felt his own frown forming. "The one's you're going to bear me."

Starscream arched a clever brow, and Megatron was well prepared for whatever smart argument he was going to come up with to fight him on this.

Which is why he wasn't prepared for the fist that caught him across the jaw, knocking his head to the side and knocking a denta loose. The sheets rustled, and when he looked up, wiping the trickle of energon from his split lip, Starscream was already storming out the door.

Megatron wasn't ready to let him walk out on him though. He followed, chasing the errant seeker all the way down to the flight hanger. With any luck, he'd catch him before he took off, and would have the time to shake sense into him before he too had to leave for the raid.

Otherwise who knew when they'd next have the chance to speak... 

 

* * *

 

  
Megatron hadn't thought about the day he and Starscream had separated since the occasion itself. He'd been occupying himself with fonder memories, Starscream visiting him in the wash racks, teasing him during small war councils, kissing him after their rarely won victories, and winning those victories, soaring through the air like he was part of the wind currents, not just riding them.

"Sir?" Thundercracker had appeared beside him. Megatron grunted, looking away, not wanting the familiar face to remind him of anyone. "Soundwave has set your deployment time for seventeen hundred hours. Skywarp and I will be leaving now."

Megatron grunted again. Thundercracker slinked off to wherever he'd appeared from.

He had one hour. An hour he'd normally spend in the arms of a treacherous ungrateful seeker who was currently a guest of the Autobots. Megatron didn't care much for changing rituals, and he was in no mood to visit the sparring rooms.

He could always call upon different company. A frag was a frag after all, and as Starscream had so callously told him when they'd last spoken, ' _fragging has no meaning anyway_ '.

He surveyed the emptying briefing room, and caught Skywarp looking at him. When their optics met, Skywarp smiled awkwardly, then waved playfully. He could...

He _could_.

He could even indulge himself in pretending Skywarp was with someone else. Seekers all looked similar enough, and Skywarp bore a striking resemblance to his trine-leader. They held their wings the same way, had the same shape to their legs...

Curious, that he had never noticed before. But then what sane mech would let his gaze wander when they had a seeker such as Starscream stood in front of them?

He'd taken one step forward, when his tank dropped with guilt. He turned away, ashamed at himself and frustrated at a seeker that wasn't even present.

He trudged his way to the wash racks. Perhaps a few private moments alone with his hand would be enough to clear his head of seekers.

 

* * *

 

Starscream had suffered much in his long life, but the simpering sympathy of Autobots was an indignity he had never had to weather before.

He learned it had been the Aerialbots that had brought him the treats, but since they seemed to appreciate what a vastly superior flier he was to them, he tolerated them more than he would any other Autobot. They were young and foolish and easy to manipulate. Starscream's favourite type of Autobot.

When they came to see him awake, they gathered around his berth and eagerly hung off his every word, blue optics wide with awe, listening to his tall tales of the Vosian Winglords of old and the legendary sky gods who had gifted them with flight, and how _all_ fliers could trace their roots back such a rich history, even if they were ugly wingless little Bots.

He caught Ratchet listening in and smirking at him on more than one occasion, but what did a lowly grounder know?

"Are you going to tell your sparkling these stories?" Fireflight asked, draped across the bottom of Starscream's berth, his head resting on Starscream's pedes.

They all looked at him expectantly, and Starscream found himself hesitating to explain how he wouldn't. Couldn't.

"...It won't be a seeker," he began.

Five faces dropped with disappointment, and Starscream felt a brief wave of validation at his own disappointment when he had heard the news-- before he remembered he was giving this sparkling up, and had no right to be concerning himself over it's frame-type.

Ratchet must have noticed his sudden shift in mood, because he began shooing the Aerialbots away, pushing an unsuspecting Fireflight off the end of the berth and knocking him to the floor with a clatter. Starscream's pedes felt cold without his head resting over them.

"Find someone else to bother, go on." Ratchet herded them out the door with waving arms.

"Bye Star!", "See ya Screamer!", "Night Starscream!" and a couple other farewells were called to him as Ratchet tried to push all five of them through the door at once.

"Don't let them in again." Starscream glared when the door was finally shut. "I won't tolerate nicknames. Not from youngling Autobots."

"They _like_ you, what a tragedy." Ratchet muttered sarcastically. "Just for that, they can come back and see you as often as they like."

"No more visitors." Starscream snarled, pulling his sheets up to his shoulders. "Lock the doors if you have to."

"This is the medbay." Ratchet reminded him with a glare of his own. "There will be mechs coming in and out."

"Then return me to my cell."

"It's a room, a _nice_ room, and no. I need to keep a closer optic on you for a while."

"Then tell your other patients not to talk to me."

"I'll tell them to share their life stories with you if you don't drop the attitude." Ratchet glared over his shoulder, "Is this another mood swing or has someone upset you? Who do I need to hurt?"

"No one has upset me." Starscream hissed.

Ratchet began dragging a chair up to his berth. He turned it around and sat on it backwards, laying his arms along the back rest and propping his chin on them. "You don't have to give your sparkling up."

A wave of emotion swept through Starscream. He looked away from Ratchet, optics hot and prickling. "I do."

"You don't."

"I told you." Starscream balled his hands into fists. "I can't just stroll back into the Nemesis with a sparkling-"

"Then don't. Stay here." Ratchet tilted his head.

"Stay _here_?" Starscream sneered, "As a prisoner? How generous of you."

Ratchet shrugged, "Maybe not a prisoner forever."

"You Autobots could woo me for a trillion years and I'd still be closer to reformatting myself into a dumpster truck than I would be to declaring myself a miserable Autobot."

Ratchet looked like he was physically repressing the desire to roll his optics. "You could be a neutral."

"That." Starscream began slowly, "is worse. The sparkling stays here. I don't. And that is final."

"And who will take care of it?"

Starscream hadn't wanted to think about that. Someone else keeping his sparkling, loving it, holding it-

"Fight it out amongst yourselves. What do I care."

Ratchet made a noise like simply being in his presence was exhausting for him. He made to stand up, and apparently that was the end of the conversation. "Prime wants to see you."

"I said no more visitors."

"You're a prisoner, not a celebrity. You don't get to demand who can and can't see you."

Starscream fidgeted. The last time he had seen the Prime was before his operation, when he'd been loopy and pained and in a completely unbecoming state for a Decepticon lieutenant. "What does he want?"

"Just wants to check up on you, I think." Ratchet shrugged. "He might try to make a fuss of you after what happened. So try not to be too horrible."

Starscream slumped back against the medberth, wondering if this day could get any worse.

 

* * *

 

Skywarp had found a fairly decent collection of foliage some ten miles up the road from the _Ark_ for them to hide in. The trees were tall and thick and so was the undergrowth, but the street running alongside it was frequented by humans. Thundercracker tried not to think about the irony of them supposedly being able to blend in on Earth thanks to their alt modes when they had chosen the most obvious disguises imaginable.

Being fighter jets in the middle of suburbia had it's downfalls he supposed.

"So when do we move?"

Thundercracker unsubspaced the intel Soundwave had handed over, all of Ravage and Laserbeaks meticulously catalogued Autobot census's. When the Autobots rolled out to confront Megatron they'd be able to check off who left, and assume whoever remained on the list was still inside, and they'd need to assess how to avoid, or deal with them.

"Soon." Thundercracker reassured him. "Prime will take most of the warriors. He may leave someone to guard Starscream. He might even leave behind his medic-"

Skywarp checked his weapon over. "Got it."

"Maybe try not to kill everyone we come across." Thundercracker suggested, brushing a twig that kept dangling down away from his face. "We don't need to worry about a retaliation attack, not with Starscream so..."

"Fat."

"I was going to say indisposed." Thundercracker glared. "We should be with him when he has the sparkling, not busy counterattacking Autobots."

Skywarp snorted, peaking through a gap in the bush when they heard a small organic on a bicycle whoosh by, merrily dinging it's bell as it wheeled through the twisting tree canopied road. "That's if Megatron even lets us in there."

"I'd like to see Megatron try and keep us out." Thundercracker murmured to himself, still reading through the intel. He didn't miss Skywarp's side glance. "What?"

"Nothing." Skywarp smiled, plucking a leaf off a branch and playing with it. "I just forget what an overprotective badass you are sometimes."

Thundercracker rolled his optics. "Just keep a look out. Soundwave will send us the signal soon. We need to be ready."

 

* * *

 

  
Prime did come to see him, and what a hateful ordeal it was. Starscream couldn't even sit up and face him with all the insubordinate attitude he'd readied himself to unload when he entered. His adapted frame kept him trapped like a turtle stuck on it's back. Noticing, Prime stepped forward and extended a hand. Starscream glared and slapped it away.

Prime didn't look too offended. "I'm glad to see you awake."

Starscream gave up on trying to get up and just let himself remain reclined. "I'm sure you are."

"How are you feeling?"

Prime couldn't possibly care how he was feeling, and if he did, that was somehow worse. That was _weird_. Unless it was the unborn sparkling he really cared about. "The new-spark is fine."

Prime tilted his head, "That is good to hear but I was inquiring after you both."

Starscream just rolled his optics, wishing Prime was as tactless as Megatron would have been in this situation, just so he could have a good enough excuse to tell him to go away in the rudest manner possible.

"Starscream," Prime decided to sit himself down in Ratchet's vacant seat. Starscream turned his head in the other direction, annoyed. "I've been told you're interested in giving the sparkling up?"

"You want it?" Starscream asked, glancing over at him, unsure how he felt about Optimus fragging Prime unknowingly raising Megatron's spawn. Oh, the irony.

Prime looked taken aback, but he didn't say 'no'. "That's not why I'm here."

"Why then?"

Prime looked at him. Really looked at him, those cool blue optics of his calculating and clever and insightful in ways Starscream didn't understand, and didn't want to. He looked away again, not wanting to present Prime with such an emotionally open book.

There was a heavy sigh. "How soon do you plan on leaving after you've had the sparkling?"

Starscream hadn't realised that was a decision he was to make. He had assumed the Autobots would simply kick him out of their ship and send him back to the Decepticons as soon as they tired of keeping him around. Maybe even before that.

He understood that it would be unfair to the sparkling, and to whoever stepped forward to claim it as their own, if he stuck around and confused things though.

"Immediately."

Optimus shifted. "I recall you suffering through the same educational lecture with Ratchet as I, not long ago?"

Starscream shuddered. How could anyone forget.

"You remember then, that a carrier will need time with the sparkling to stabilise it's spark. It will still share a bond with you after the emergence. Breaking that connection too early is ill advised."

"So what?" Starscream muttered. "It won't die."

"No." Prime rumbled slowly, "But it will be distressing. For you both."

"It'll be 'distressing' whatever I do." Starscream hissed. "It's better to do it quickly. A clean break. The sparkling won't know what it's missing."

"With all due respect, Starscream-"

" _With all due respect, **Prime**_." Starscream cut him off. "It's not _your_ sparkling, is it?"

Prime hummed his reluctant agreement. "And neither will it be yours if you go ahead with this."

Harsh, but true. Starscream was surprised the Prime had it in him.

The disastrous conversation was interrupted by a ping from Prime's comm. He checked it, then stood quickly, "I apologise."

He moved off to answer and left Starscream prone across the medberth, twiddling his thumbs and thinking about the stupid oversized little monster growing inside him, and how much it might hurt to leave it behind.

Not for the first time he wondered what would happen if he simply accepted his fate and did take it back to the _Nemesis_ , let Megatron have him as a trophy, as the brood mate he'd always wanted, confined to the base where he and his reproductive capabilities would remain good and safe from the enemy, until Megatron decided he had enough heirs. _If_ he ever would.

Not likely.

Prime reappeared in the doorway, looking much more haggard than he had just moments ago. "Starscream, we will continue this conversation another time."

He said it gently, but managed to make it sound like a threat.

"Ratchet," he called, and the medic himself appeared from the private examination room next door. "A word?"

Ratchet levelled Starscream with a glare as he gestured Prime to follow him in. "Stay put."

Starscream refrained from pointing out how he was having trouble even sitting upright at the moment, let alone getting up and running off somewhere.

Prime and Ratchet retreated into the next room and sealed the door behind them. Starscream couldn't get up and eavesdrop, but he could tell from their tone- something was happening.

 

* * *

 

"I can't stay here." Ratchet pressed. "You'll be too far. If something happened, someone was injured--"

"Starscream cannot stay here unguarded."

"He's not going anywhere." Ratchet arched a brow, nodding back to the next room where Starscream was sulkily sprawled across the medberth.

"No." Optimus agreed quietly. "But he has just had a serious operation, and as you told me this morning, is in a delicate state. We have a duty of care towards him now."

Ratchet frowned, realising where this was going. "We'll be gone a couple of hours at most. He'll be fine if we leave him with someone capable. Wheeljack, or Perceptor."

Optimus was shaking his helm. "I'm sure we can cope without you-"

"You want me to sit here, sitting around doing nothing with Starscream whilst you run off to get shot at by a bunch of Decepticons?!" Ratchet snarled.

"This is a difficult choice," Optimus began.

"You're fragging right it's a difficult choice! Starscream's in a precarious state but I'm your chief medical officer. I cannot be here, hundreds of miles away, if someone needs emergency treatment!"

Optimus stared down at him.

"So long as Starscream isn't moved, he'll be fine." Ratchet said firmly, half convincing himself. "He will be. I'll leave instructions on how to handle him."

"For who?"

"Wheeljack." Ratchet decided, not because he thought him more capable than anyone else, but because he was less likely to rub Starscream up the wrong way and stress him out. "Starscream can cope without me for a few hours."

"...I trust your judgement." Optimus finally decided.

Ratchet nodded, unsure if he did too.

 

* * *

 

Ratchet was leaving, which Starscream found curious. Attempts at learning where he and all the other Autobots he could hear mobilising through the Ark were going, were met with ''mind your own business's and 'shut up and go to sleep's.

Starscream wasn't an idiot. He knew they were off to foil another one of Megatron's idiot plots.

"Good luck." He smiled at Ratchet, and he meant it. Megatron could use a good few kicks to take him down a peg.

Ratchet ignored his good luck, likely thinking he was being sarcastic, and busied himself with hastily briefing Wheeljack- the sorry Autobot that was being left behind to mind him. The instructions were simple; not to let him do anything or go anywhere and to not, under any circumstances, believe a word he said.

"I'm not a liar." Starscream argued from the sidelines, wanting to defend his honour as an honest mech.

Both Wheeljack and Ratchet paused their conversation to stare at him.

"... _Anyway_ ," Ratchet concluded. "He's had his pain suppressants and his fuel. There's a bucket under the berth if he needs to purge-"

"Hey!" Starscream shouted, cheeks flaring with heat at the indignity of being treated like an idiot sparkling. 

"And you!" Ratchet turned on him. "Take a damn nap."

Starscream wanted to argue that he didn't need a nap, but he was already at risk of looking like an immature youngling, so he settled for a venomous glare instead.

Ratchet nodded to Wheeljack, "You'll do fine. Comm me if there's a problem. Hound and Red' are around if he causes trouble."

Wheekjack had the nerve to laugh, like the mere thought of Starscream being capable of causing any trouble was a joke. Starscream seethed at their arrogance. Just because he was coming into his third trimester and was too tired to move didn't mean he wasn't a threat! He'd show them!

After his nap, that was.

Curse Ratchet for manipulating his circadian rhyme so well!

 

* * *

 

"You've got the ram?" Thundercracker asked, watching as the Autobot convoy tore past, the slipstream from speeding race cars rustling the leaves they were relying on for cover. Thundercracker crouched lower, keeping his wings down and a hand on Skywarp to prevent his overeager mate from leaning too far forwards out of curiosity.

"Yeah, I got it." Skywarp tried to shrug him off, impatient. He brought the Blast-Ram out of his subspace, hefting it's heavy weight between his hands. It was one of Starscream's inventions, one of his best. A portable device capable of blowing down any door, wall, or safe. He'd developed it using schematics from Megatron's fusion cannon though, which meant if it was used the wrong way around, it would blow it's user's legs off.

Thundercracker had seen it happen first hand. 

So he was justified in worrying about Skywarp handling it.

One of the last Autobots to zoom past was the ambulance, and having already counted most of the warriors, it looked as though they might have left Starscream unguarded after all. Perhaps they were in luck?

"Let's move." Thundercracker laid his hand on Skywarp's shoulder again, the signal for him to teleport, straight to the doors of the _Ark_.

Their pedes hit the dirt and proximity alarms screamed to life, but the _Ark's_ external defences weren't designed for teleporters that could warp themselves into the cover of their own porch. The purple of Skywarp's warp drive had barely faded before the violet of the Blast-Ram cast them both in glowing light. Skywarp had a huge grin on his face as he pressed it to the door.

"is it the right way-?"

"Yes. it's the right way around!" Skywarp shouted, pulling the trigger.

The ram went off with an almighty bang, shaking the ground, the _mountain_ , throwing Skywarp straight off his pedes and tumbling aft over head in the dirt metres away. The reinforced door itself had disappeared right off it's hinges into the _Ark_.

Thundercracker peered in through the open doorway, waving a hand as the smoke dissipated, to see what remained of the door imbedded into the bulkhead at the other end of a long corridor.

"C'mon." He glared back at Skywarp, who was struggling to get to his feet. "Stop messing around, Warp."

Skywarp ran to him in dizzy zigzags. Thundercracker just hoped he regained the ability to shoot straight before they came across any Autobots.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

****Wheeljack wasn't as easy to manipulate as Starscream had hoped.

He was barely able to wheedle out of having to lie down with the lights off and 'just try to take a nap' for the entire time the Autobots were gone, and that was more due to Wheeljack's inherit kindness than his own manipulative abilities.

He wondered if he was losing touch, or if it was something to do having been turned into a walking oil-barrel that had knocked his confidence. He supposed that another reason to be grateful for Autobot hospitality. He didn't think he could face Megatron (or his trine and the rest of the Decepticon hooligans) in such a state. He'd be a laughing stock, and he wouldn't even have the capacity to hurt those who would dare comment.

"We can play a game?" Wheeljack suggested, as bored with watching Starscream do nothing as Starscream was bored with watching him _watch him_ do nothing. "The humans have a few games I modified so we can play."

"Modified?"

"...I made them big."

"That depends." Starscream squinted at him. "Are these games going to blow up?"

"No they-" Wheeljack stopped, cleared his vocaliser. "That doesn't happen nearly as often as everyone lets on."

Starscream arched a disbelieving brow, but his condescension wasn't nearly enough to dissuade Wheeljack from drawing the modified games out of his subspace. Starscream struggled to push himself upright to see better. Wheeljack absently extended a hand to him. Starscream took it, and Wheeljack stacked a few pillows up behind him so he could lean back again.

Starscream didn't say thank you, but Wheeljack didn't seem to mind.

The first game was a large folded mat made of a flimsy plastic, white with coloured spots on it. Wheeljack began to unfold it.

"This one is called 'Twister'. Carly showed it to us. She says it's a game that tests flexibility and balance but we haven't really played it since Bluestreak and Jazz tangled their..." Wheeljack trailed off, looking between the mat and Starscream's condition. "...I guess you're not feeling too flexible these days."

Starscream glared and said nothing.

Wheeljack quickly moved on. "I think you'll like this, Chess-"

"Heard of it." Starscream interrupted. "Boring."

Wheeljack stroked his face-mask, optics brightening as he pulled another game out, one with a board and a plethora of pieces. Starscream was ready to shoot this one down too. "The aim of this one is to create a monopoly of property and bankrupt every other player?"

Starscream forced himself not to look so eager. "...Oh?"

"But we really need more than just two players-"

"Then summon your comrades." Starscream said impatiently, struggling to pull the board towards him. He unfolded it and slapped it on the equipment table next to him, knocking all of Ratchet's carefully organised tools to the floor. Wheeljack made a worried noise.

The game-board looked like something Wheeljack had drawn himself. 'Monopoly' had been written in the engineer's blocking handwriting across it's centre, presumably the name of the game. There were stacks of fake money (made of paper, how primitive), small human-ish houses in bright colours, and several different shaped game peices. There wasn't a jet, which was irritating, and Starscream wasn't lowering himself to taking the role of a sports car or a saggy boot.

He picked up the dog.

"They're on their way." Wheeljack finished sending a comm message to Hound and Red Alert, then noticed which player piece Starscream picked. "That's fitting."

"What is?" Starscream placed his piece at the start position.

"Nothing." Wheeljack amended hastily. He chose his own piece. The sports car. "Finally. This one always goes first."

Starscream couldn't imagine why.

Before long Hound and Red Alert joined them. Hound was gentle and easygoing enough to consent to the game without argument, even taking the smelly boot without comment when Starscream forced it on him and said it was his most appropriate representation. Red Alert fretted over the idea of playing a game when he should have been on security detail. Until Wheeljack convinced him he was the only mech vigilant enough to monitor attempts at cheating, and considering Starscream was playing, they really needed him.

Starscream was almost beginning to enjoy himself, aside from the glares he earned off Red Alert every time he made a move in the game, fair or not.

They were ten minutes in, Hound was near bankruptcy, and no one had flipped the board and stormed out -when the lights switched from bright and white to dim and red and flashing.

The board was knocked to the floor as all three Autobots stood up, Red Alert tripping over himself as he ran to the door. Before he could make it there was an almighty crash from somewhere deep within the base, like someone had blown a hole though the hull.

Red Alert span back around with a squeak of panic. "We've been breached."

Starscream's spark was in his throat. He shouldn't have anything to worry about but the Autobot's nerves were contagious. The worst it would be is Decepticons. And the worst that could happen was that he'd be 'rescued'.

Oh Primus.

He felt sick.

"-lock down this floor." Hound was saying, his soft gentle demeanour gone, gun out and online. "There's no way you can reach the security hub from here, Red."

"But there could be hundreds of them." Red Alert argued. "We need to activate counter measures."

"No, most will have gone to the raid," Wheeljack's cool blue optics glanced at Starscream. "There won't be many of them. This is a rescue mission, not an attack."

"Don't let them take me." Starscream told them, mustering as much dignity as he could in his panicked, useless condition.

Hound's heavy rough hand found his shoulder, "We're not letting them-"

"Maybe we should." Red Alert interrupted. "If we surrender him-"

"Red!" Hound snapped, shocked.

" _If we surrender him_ there won't be a fight." Red Alert repeated loudly, glared back at Starscream again. "And there won't be any risk of _someone_ getting caught in the crossfire."

Starscream could see the idea sinking into Wheeljack and Hound's processors. They were considering it, even though he had been promised. Ratchet had _promised_ he could stay.

He shook his helm, "Don't let them take me." He said again, less demanding, more imploring. He wrapped his arms around his middle, bracing it against the twisting feeling of gripping fear. "Don't."

Wheeljack lifted his gun, held it at the ready. "Alright. We can't move Starscream. We'll have to hold the corridor." He glanced at him. "Stay here."

Starscream didn't even bother to shout that he wasn't going anywhere, watching the three of them funnel out into the corridor and lock the door behind them. Starscream folded his wings close, forcing his breathing to even out. His spark span in turmoil, and a burning ache started below his spark chamber, in his sternum strut.

"Not now," he begged, massaging the space as the discomfort grew. "Don't descend _now_ , you stupid thing!"

Begging did little help. Fiery, burning pain shot between his chest and abdomen, like someone had stabbed his spark and was gutting him. The new-spark had decided it was time to bond with it's protoform, and it had chosen the worst possible timing to do it.

 

* * *

 

The corridor flashed purple as Skywarp teleported forward another metre, humming a tune under his breath and looking both ways with exaggeratedly squinty optics.

"Will you-!" Thundercracker hopped after him and grabbed Skywarp's wing. "-just walk! Teleporting _isn't_ stealthy and you're not a  _spy_." 

Skywarp stumbled back against him with a displeased noise. "I'm checking it's clear ahead for you."

"You're going off like an Independence Day celebration is what you're doing." Thundercracker dragged him back so he was at the front of their two mech party. "Starscream's relying on us. Are you going to take this seriously or not?"

"Just let me warp into the medbay," Skywarp complained, forgetting stealth again by slumping and kicking at the floor as he followed.

"Into an ambush?"

"I think I can take whatever loser Autobots Prime left behind." Skywarp argued.

"You want to start a fight in the very room Starscream's being held in." Thundercracker leant close to the bulkhead to check around the corner. "And if he gets hurt?"

"He won't."

"Why's that?" Thundercracker waved for him to follow, stepping out into the clear space. "Is it because _you're_ going to protect him? Because he certainly can't defend himself."

"He's only carrying." Skywarp didn't match his stealthy slink and duck into the corridor. If there were cameras watching them, he wasn't doing anything to hide from them. "It's not like his legs have been blown off."

"He's been captive here for months. When has Starscream ever not been able to get himself out of custody? Remember when he taken captive on Ohmen and the Autobot's deactivated his aerial programming? And he still jumped out of the fifty story tower?"

Skywarp nodded, grimacing at the memory. "And he impaled himself with his own cockpit glass?"

"And he still found his way back to us." Thundercracker finished. "He's always been able to get himself out of trouble. This time, obviously, he can't. Or won't."

"Because of the sparkling." Skywarp concluded, speaking more to himself than Thundercracker.

The sparkling. Thundercracker hadn't really had time to muse on the actual new-spark itself, focusing more on Starscream's condition and what the new arrival might mean for everyone else, not just it's parents. He wondered what Starscream would name it. If it would be a seeker. If he and Skywarp would be allowed to bond with it...

He'd been lost in his own thoughts. Skywarp's hands shot out and caught him by the back of the neck. He choked and wobbled back, "What-?"

"Shh, listen!"

He did. There was voices up ahead. More than one. More than _two_. Intermingling with still blaring alarms. Thundercracker spied shadows on the bulkhead up ahead, growing larger with every flash of light. Three of them, from what he could tell.

"We're outnumbered." Thundercracker ducked back and stroked his chin.

"Only by like, one." Skywarp hefted his new favourite weapon. The blast-ram. "If they're between us and Screamer we could just go around the other way. Or...?"

"You're not using that _thing_ in here." Thundercracker snapped, pushing the blast-ram down. "You'll kill yourself. And me."

"Fine we go around."

"And lead them on a wild Cyber-goose chase, giving reinforcements plenty of time to arrive." Thundercracker shook his head. The shadows were close, the shifting of armour audible. "We should split up."

"You said Screamer was too heavy for me to carry." Skywarp glared. "He can't run."

"If I lure them away you, won't have to make him run."

"I said we should have brought Ramjet." Skywarp muttered, frustrated.

"Just go." Thundercracker gave him a shove. He onlined his nullray and aimed it at the ceiling. He let off three shots without warning, sharp pews easily heard over the alarm klaxons. Shouting and stamping footsteps approached all the faster. "Go!"

Skywarp worried at his lip, looking between the growing shadows and Thundercracker on his own.

Thundercracker forced a smile. "Just a bunch of Autobot losers, remember?"

Skywarp nodded. "Don't do anything stupid."

"That's you, remember."

Skywarp teleported with a scoff.

 

* * *

 

The pain was causing hallucinations now. Starscream closed his optics for the briefest of moments, and now he was seeing Skywarp, feeling him, hearing him. A thumb swept across his cheek and Skywarp's dark frame blocked out the overhead lights as he leant closer. He smelt like gunpowder, with a hint of fusion, like he'd been playing with weapons again.

It all felt so real, even if Skywarp's usually playful smirk had been replaced with a frown, expression hard and so serious.

Starscream looked away, trying to fight the hallucination back and focus on his pain management. Steady, even breaths to keep his spark pulse steady and even and strong, even as it allowing the part of itself that it had been growing for weeks to tear itself away.

Panicking would only make it worse. And he couldn't handle much more. 

"-they done to you?" The hallucination was speaking, trying to turn his head back its way. "Talk to me. C'mon, It's me!"

Another stab of pain shot through Starscream's torso, this one ending in a vigorous thrash of the protoform in his tank, like a haphazard jump start. There was blaster fire coming from somewhere. Muffled, outside possibly. But someone could have walked in the door and shot him in the gut and he probably wouldn't have noticed.

The hallucination was still with him, speaking into a comm link. Starscream caught some of the words through the squeal of ongoing alarms.

"-wrong with him -hurt real bad I think-"

There were stronger sedatives in one of the locked cabinets above Ratchet's desk. Starscream looked in their direction, wondering if he could muster the strength to get up and stumble over. Lifting himself a bare inch off the berth sent spikes of pain through his sensor net. He made a choked, desperate noise.

"- it's alright, hang on." The hallucination was starting to sound frantic. It disappeared from Starscream's limited view. There were crashes and clangs as it started searching the equipment tables. "Were are the sensor blockers?!"

Starscream lifted a weak arm and pointed the hallucination in the right direction.

The Skywarp hallucination went for the cabinet immediately, shooting the lock off and flinging it open. Next thing Starscream knew dozens of containers had been dumped on the berth with him, the hallucination glancing through them all frantically, searching for one to use.

Even imaginary Skywarp was an idiot, it seemed. To save himself a potential overdose, Starscream snatched up a familiar blue container, recognising it as the one Ratchet routinely dosed him from. He struggled with shaking hands to open it. Warm hands took it off him and the blockers were tipped into a black servo.

Starscream snatched them and shoved them in his mouth quickly.

"Let's hope those kick in quickly." The Skywarp hallucination said, glancing towards the door and the loud bangs coming from behind it as he started scooping the leftover sedatives and sensor blockers into his own subspace. He would pawn them to Swindle later, most likely.

A very Skywarp-like thing for his Skywarp hallucination to do.

"Are you here?" Starscream asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm here." Skywarp flashed him a bright, worried smile, stroking the top of his helm. "I'm here to rescue you."

"Oh no." Starscream complained.

Skywarp ignored him. "Can you stand?"

"No." Starscream said abruptly, because he both couldn't _and_ didn't want to.

"I'm not surprised." Skywarp scratched his helm. "You look like a cargo plane."

Outside there was yelling, panicked shouts. A familiarly high whirring sound, that could be felt _through_ Starscream's frame more than in was heard in his audials, grew to near-glass shattering pitch before ending in a sudden dull boom. The walls and floor and berth Starscream laid on shook with the strength of it. A bomb without the explosion.

Thundercracker was here too.

No doubt due to the racket, the protoform kicked about inside him. Starscream placed a bracing hand over his tank, waiting for the activity to die down.

"Is it the sparkling?" Skywarp asked, reaching a hopeful hand towards him.

Starscream swallowed thickly. It was obvious, his condition, especially now that Ratchet had had to alter him for it, but Skywarp's lack of surprise was worrying. He'd already known.

"Does Megatron know?" He whispered, dreading the answer.

Skywarp shook his head, his palm warm against Starscream's armour. "No. Just me and TC. And Soundwave."

Starscream wanted to sob. It must have shown on his face, because Skywarp was suddenly shushing him. "No, it's okay. It's okay. You can still tell him-"

"I don't want to." Starscream's voice sounded stupid and thick and emotional even to his own audials. "I can't go back."

"What are you talking about?" Skywarp sounded light and amused. "That's for me and TC to worry about. We'll get you back, don't worry about those Autobots-"

"No!" Starscream snapped, frustrated. "I'm not going back."

"...That's just the hormones talking-"

"It is not!"

"The _drugs_ , then!" Skywarp was starting to sound frustrated. "You're coming home."

"On whose orders?" Starscream sneered, "Did Megatron order this rescue mission?"

Skywarp blinked. "He-"

"I'm staying. Get that through your tiny calculator of a processor." Starscream curled his fists against another wave of pain, lesser now, thanks to the sensor blockers. "I'm having the sparkling here and dumping it on the Autobots. Let them deal with it."

Skywarp was staring at him in shock. "...Are you _serious_?"

"It's not your-"

"Don't say it's not my business, we're trine!" Skywarp was yelling now, almost louder than the alarms still blaring. "If you don't want it, me and TC would-"

" _Megatron's_ the _sire_." Starscream hissed.

"I know he's the fragging sire. I'm not an idiot!" Skywarp's optics were glowing with fury. "You can't leave our sparkling with the Autobots-"

"It's not ' _our_ ' anything, it's _mine_."

"You said you didn't want it!"

"I don't want _you_ having it either!"

"Maybe Megatron wants it? You think of that, huh? Were you even gonna tell him? Ever?"

"This has nothing to do with you!"

"We're family!"

"Like Pit we are." Starscream snarled, wishing he could jump up and slap Skywarp for arguing with him about this. As if the decision wasn't hard enough without condemnation from his... from _them_. "We're not even friends."

"You're my friend." Skywarp stood his ground. "That's why I'm rescuing you. Whether you want me to or not!"

He surged forward, and Starscream screamed, _screamed_ over the sound of the alarms and distant blaster fire so the Autobots would hear. Skywarp ignored it, slipping an arm under his legs and around his back. Starscream tried to push him off, but his frame ached with residual pain and his limbs were weak from the blockers. He was no better than a useless, heavy, rag-doll in Skywarp's arms.

"TC," Skywarp panted into his comm. "I got him, we need to-"

Before he could finish, the medbay door opened.

Three smokey, battered looking Autobots appeared panting in the doorway. Thundercracker was with them, on his knees, disarmed and furious with a gun pressed to his temple courtesy of Hound. One of his optics was dark, and he was smoking from more than one blaster wound. The tip of his left wing had been shot completely off.

Starscream felt lightheaded, and stopped fighting Skywarp just so he could have someone to hold onto it.

"Put him down." Wheeljack ordered, gun held aloft, unwilling to point it at Skywarp when he was holding Starscream.

When no one moved, Hound nudged Thundercracker with the blaster. Starscream felt Skywarp's arms tighten around him.

"Now." Wheeljack pressed.

"Just take me." Thundercracker protested from the floor, his vocaliser crackling. "One hostage for another."

"No," Starscream protested.

" _Starscream_ ," Thundercracker began.

"Starscream is worth more to us than you are." Hound disagreed.

"Both of us then." Skywarp interrupted. "You take us hostage, and let Starscream go."

"Starscream can't leave under his own power anyway."

"Then _take him home_." Skywarp protested, holding Starscream closer, even though he must have weighted an unbearable amount.

"There won't be any hostage exchanges today." Wheeljack shook his head. "Put Starscream down, gently, and we'll let you two go."

"Do what he says." Starscream looked into Skywarp's tense face. "Put me down, and _go_."

Skywarp's optics flickered between him and Thundercracker, struggling. Thundercracker shook his head.

Starscream knew what that look meant. Stupid, stubborn-

"We're not leaving without him." Skywarp said, nodding back at Thundercracker. He stepped back and gently lowered Starscream back to the medberth.

"What are you doing?" Starscream hissed before he pulled away.

Skywarp didn't answer, stepped back and disarming his nullrays.

The Autobots looked conflicted. Wheeljack aimed his weapon at Skywarp now that he was clear of Starscream. "You have a free pass to leave-"

"And we're not taking it." Thundercracker growled. "If you won't free Starscream, you'll have to take us prisoner too."

Wheeljack glanced in Starscream's direction, a silent plea for help.

Starscream couldn't do much else but slap a hand to his forehead in despair.

 

* * *

 

There was an Autobot distraction, that much Soundwave could tell. From his vantage point over the ongoing battle he could see the message being passed along through the high command, the hands poised beside audials, the frowns crossing their faces. The message had reached them. There were trespassers aboard the _Ark_.

Which meant so far as he could tell, things were going to plan.

Continuing his scan of the battlefield, he noticed a brief disagreement between the Aerialbots overhead. Two fell out of formation as though they intended to turn back the way they'd come. Soundwave lifted his blaster and shot the closest out of the sky. His bolt caught the flying Autobot in the wing. It's comrade dove after it. Neither of them were going anywhere now. 

Good. The last thing Thundercracker and Skywarp needed were heroic Autobots hampering their rescue mission.

As the Aerialbot fell spinning to the ground, trailing smoke, Soundwave wordlessly hailed Thundercracker and Skywarp, just confirm their progress. If they already had Starscream in tow he could call an early retreat. Despite the distractions, the Autobot were fighting well, pushing them back. The longer they loitered, the more they risked.

The signal bounced back unanswered.

Soundwave tried again and received the same response. Thundercracker and SKywarp's comms were either malfunctioning, or had been blocked from his reach.

Below, none of the Autobots looked worried over whatever the situation was back at the _Ark_.

This was troublesome.

"Ravage; eject." He pressed the button on his chest.

Ravage leapt from his chest compartment, folding gracefully out of his alt mode. Claws drawn and tail flicking eagerly, his ears flicked back towards the ongoing battle, already pinpointing potential targets.

Soundwave was loath to deny him an afternoon of tearing Autobots apart, but he had a far more pressing task in mind for him. One he couldn't trust more _seekers_ with. He sent the instructions to Ravage, and after one meaningful glance back towards the ongoing fight, Ravage bowed his head and sprinted off into the undergrowth.

Soundwave turned back to the battle and watched Megatron taking potshots at Prime with his fusion cannon, every blast blowing a crater in the ground where Prime was only just keeping ahead of them.

A dark curl of resentment grew in Soundwave's chest.

Prime was often considered off limits to everyone but Megatron, but Soundwave wasn't going to let every part of today's plans fail. And Prime had no idea he had a second enemy within shooting distance.

With Prime in his sights, he lifted his blaster, aimed, and fired.

Prime went down. Megatron bellowed in victory.

This should provide sufficient motivation. Because if the Autobots wouldn't trade an Air Commander for their _Prime_ , they'd never get Starscream back.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Prime was apprehended, but conscious, being dragged through the mud behind Megatron as determined Autobots pursued their leader's captor. The exchange of blaster fire across the field of battle had doubled in the panic of the Autobots losing their Prime, and Soundave was struggling to reach them. Megatron was fully capable of restraining Prime alone, but the pair of them had a nasty habit of _talking_ to one another.

The last thing Soundwave needed was Megatron getting distracted.

He fired off commands on an open frequency, drawing their forces inwards to better protect Megatron and keep Prime within their grasp. In Thundercracker's absence Ramjet had taken command, and in typical cone-head fashion, had his seekers dive bombing the Autobots.

"Decepticons!" Megatron bellowed victoriously, kicking Prime in the abdomen when the Autobot began clawing at the ground to get the traction to kick back. "Retreat!"

"Megatron!" Prime snarled, thrashing to break from Megatron's grip on his legs. "Listen to me, Star-!"

Soundwave reached them just in time, switching his blaster to stun and shooting Prime in the chest. He went limp with a jolt, optics black and vocaliser silent.

When Soundwave looked up, Megatron was staring at him.

"We should proceed with the retreat." Soundwave reminded him. The Autobots were shooting past the defending seekers. Ramjet didn't have Starscream's tactical skill. They wouldn't have long.

Megatron huffed, bending to lift his captive. He slung Prime's tall, mud-smeared frame over his shoulder. "You couldn't have given me time to lord it over him?"

"Later." Soundwave pointed in the direction of the retreat. "Retreat. Before Prime awakens."

Megatron begrudgingly shifted the Prime hanging haphazardly over his shoulder and followed the others. Soundwave joined him after sending another command to the seekers to fall back and join the retreat.

They lost the Autobots somewhere over the coastal regions. Soundwave remained close behind Megatron, watching Prime for any signs he was coming around. Under no circumstances could he allow the two leaders to speak. Prime had no reason to protect Starscream, and revealing the truth of what had been occurring at the _Ark_ would be the perfect way to plunge Megatron into distress.

And an emotional Megatron was never a sensible one.

And Starscream was in no fit state to weather whatever tantrum he might decide to throw.

 

* * *

 

Once Thundercracker and Skywarp had been hauled down to the brig, Wheeljack returned to Starscream's side.

Chest on fire and back arching with jolts of pain, Starscream seized his hand and tried to break his fingers.

"Sorry, _sorry_ , I know," Wheeljack managed to prise his fingers free, the armour crumpled and scratched by Starscream's claws, his brow creased with worry and sympathy as he searched the cuboards and drawers. Starscream knew he had maxed out the dosage of sensory blockers he'd be allowed, but he could always hope-

"Here!" Wheeljack rushed back over, unfolding a strip of thick layered fabric. "Heating pads. I designed them for Ratchet." He said, laying it over Starscream's middle.

Starscream tolerated him wrapping it tightly around his torso, casting aside the worry that they might explode for now. Wheeljack flicked a switch and the fabric began to warm.

The spark burn of the new-spark descending didn't go, but it began to recede with the soothing sensation. The shooting pains became an ache, almost bearable. Starscream let his frame relax, taking slow, deep measured breaths, focusing on one spot on the ceiling. He decided not to think about how much more the actual emergence was going to hurt.

And how soon that event would be happening.

"Ratchet?" He asked.

"They're on their way back now." Wheeljack sounded solemn. "But he's going to be busy. There are injured."

"Typical." Starscream hissed, concentrating on that frustration over his own pain. "That's Megatron for you, always making life more difficult for me-!"

"Stop ranting and try to relax for a little while." Wheeljack suggested.

 _Relax_?! Starscream wanted to _stab him_.

"How long will this go on for?" He snapped. "Fragging spark-"

Wheeljack shrugged unhelpfully, "Hopefully not too much longer."

" _Hopefully_!?"

There was a beep from Wheeljack's comlink. Starscream didn't think he'd ever seen a mech look so relieved. Deep within the base, Starscream could hear the rattle and clunk of an army of mechs reentering the halls. The Autobots were back. He never thought he'd be so happy at such a thought.

From the steady footfalls, some were coming this way.

Just the knowledge that Ratchet, with his unparalleled experience and constant scowl and no nonsense attitude, had returned made Starscream feel better. He was moments away from marching through the doorway, hooking his thumbs in his hip plating, and tutting at the drama Starscream was making over a 'little spark ache'. 

The door banged open and Ratchet did indeed come through it-

-Covered in energon and scorch marks, and carrying the bloodied legs of an unconscious comrade. He stormed straight past Starscream without a second glance, barking orders and kicking equipment tables aside.

"Jackie! Get in here!" He threw over his shoulder at Wheeljack, who hastened to obey.

Despite the pain he was in, Starscream sat up, wincing as he watched them rush into the annex that served as an operating theatre. He looked to the unconscious Autobot and glimpsed familiar armour. A young face.

Silverbolt.

"Wait-" he croaked, dread and guilt knotting his tanks.

Wheeljack's expression wasn't visible, but his optics were pale white light. He glanced back at Starscream before closing the door, "Just- just hold on a little while!"

Starscream stared at the now sealed door, listening to Ratchet's muffled shouts and the clatter of equipment.

The pain of the descent was inconsequential. It was guilt that tore at his spark now.

 

* * *

 

Jazz rubbed a hand down his face. "This is a mess."

"Only if improperly handled." Prowl arched a brow, cool and collected expression masking how obviously frustrated he was. Jazz glanced at his hands where they gripped the back of a chair. Prowl's fingers were denting it.

"Optimus has been taken prisoner, but we have three seekers in our own brig."

"Screamer's in the medbay." Ironhide grunted.

"I know where he is." Prowl said shortly.

"M' jus' sayin'-"

"He's a _prisoner_." Prowl said forcefully, before anyone could get too sentimental.

"Ratch' won't let us move him," Jazz opened his arms with a shrug. "Not till he's had that sparkling."

Prowl was already glaring. "We cannot leave Prime at Decepticon mercy for that long."

"We have two perfectly good prisoners in the brig, right now." Jazz tented his fingers together on the table in front of him. "Two elite seekers for one Prime isn't a bad exchange rate."

"'Cept those two battery lickers are only _in_ our brig cause they refused to leave!" Ironhide reminded them. "They ain't going nowhere without Screamer. Or the bitlet."

"Then we offer Megatron all _three and a half seekers_!" Prowl snapped and slammed a fist against the table. "Our duty is to fellow Autobots. To Optimus. Not unborn Decepticons and their ailing carriers!"

Jazz tapped at the table lightly. "Empathy programming aside, m' not saying I don't agree with ya, Prowler. But Ratchet won't."

Prowl gaze darkened. "Ratchet knows where his loyalties lie. He's an Autobot."

"He's a medic." Ironhide sighed, leaning back in his chair. The frame creaked under the shift of weight. "He's as loyal to Prime as you n' me, but Screamer's his patient."

"So is Silverbolt." Prowl added casually, just to watch Ironhide's face fall. "And it was one of Starscream's comrades that shot him out of the sky today."

"...Jackie say's he'll be alright." Ironhide said after a pause, clearing his vocaliser. "A few dents and couple missing amour plates, but he'll be alright."

"Can we say the same of Prime?"

"Prime's a big bot, Prowler." Jazz smiled in the face of Prowl's thunderous expression. "He can handle Mega-bucket for a little while longer."

 

* * *

 

Optimus could indeed handle Megatron, in whatever wildly alternating mood he happened to be in. He could weather his gloating, his rantings, his beatings, even his melancholy.

What he was far less equipped to handle, was Soundwave.

The Decepticon officer towered over him threateningly, visor low but piercing. Optimus squinted up at him and shifted on a dry, rusted decking of the Decepticon's brig. His helm was splitting, but he couldn't remember taking a blow to the head. Perhaps it was a result of rough handling during his loss of consciousness. He wouldn't be surprised to learn Megatron had dropped him on his head once or twice on the journey here.

"Where is Megatron?" He asked, because he was sure the Decepticon would joyfully tell him if he had.

Soundwave ignored the question.

"Starscream; status."

Optimus blinked, a thought coming to him swiftly, but cautiously. There were three seekers in Autobot custody last he had checked. Was Soundwave simply a concerned comrade, efficiently prioritising Starscream's higher rank over his trine-mates, or was this something more.

"Starscream's physical condition." Soundwave repeated himself angrily. "Status."

"So _you're_ the sire." Optimus leant forwards.

Soundwave's visor flickered, as though with surprise. For a moment of spark freezing horror, Optimus feared he had miscalculated.

"Negative." Soundwave finally answered.

"...But you know?"

"Affirmative."

The Decepticons were more clued into this situation that he had initially realised. "This makes things easier." He sighed.

"Negative." Soundwave intoned darkly, looming closer. "The situation is considerably difficult. You are a complication."

Optimus felt some indignation as that accusation. "If I recall, wasn't it you who decide to shoot me?"

"Autobot forces have apprehended the remaining two thirds of the command trine."

"They were trespassing."

"They were attempting the retrieval of vital personnel."

"Starscream." Optimus arched his brow.

Soundwave wasn't impressed. "You have held him long enough Prime."

No good would come of revealing that Starscream wasn't being held against his will on the Ark. Not if Soundwave already knew he was carrying. Optimus met his deadly gaze stoically. "As I mentioned before, he is under quarantine-"

"False. Do not disguise your nefarious actions. In holding Starscream you are holding the Decepticon heir in blatant-"

"Heir." Optimus cut across sharply.

Soundwave fell silent.

There was only one reason Soundwave would refer to Starscream's sparkling as an heir. Without a city state to rule over, Starscream himself was no longer a prince, and without a title, his sparkling had nothing to inherit from _him_.

Which meant-

"Megatron's the sire..." He murmured, glossa dry and rough, sticking to the roof of his mouth.

Soundwave was staring down at him tensely. There was no confirmation, and no denial. Optimus didn't need it though. He knew it was the truth.

"Oh Primus..."

"Starscream must be returned." Soundwave insisted.

Optimus felt his shoulders slump a little lower. Of course. No wonder Starscream had been so difficult with them. Of all the mechs he imagined Starscream might have tolerated having a sparkling with, Megatron was at the very bottom.

They hated one another, didn't they?

"No." He lifted his chin in defiance, meeting Soundwave's haunting stare dead on. "He's staying right where he is."

Defenceless, prisoner of the Decepticons, and here he was, _still_ protecting Starscream.

Soundwave's visor darkened, and Optimus had a feeling he was going to regret that choice.

 

* * *

 

Skywarp sat in a cell facing Thundercracker's. They could see one another through the energy bars, but couldn't reach across the space between them without risking electrocution. If they kept their balance though, and both reached at the same time, maybe their fingers would brush.

Thundercracker could feel how he longed for physical comfort through their bond, but shook his head. "You'll zap yourself again." He said, nodding to the scorched line a bar had burnt into Skywarp's shoulder when he'd tried before.

"Worth it." He whispered.

Thundercracker didn't appear to hear. He let his helm tap back against the wall of his cell, staring at the ceiling, defeat written into his body language. "I thought we agreed Starscream was the priority."

"We did." Skywarp muttered.

"Then why didn't you just get out of there?" Thundercracker let his helm drop forward to pin him with a scathing glare. "The med bay was empty. I was handling the Autobots-"

"You were getting your aft beat by the Autobots." Skywarp glared back. "Why do you always blame me-"

"You had one job!" Thundercracker held up his digit. "One! And I-"

" _I tried_!" Skywarp shouted, voice echoing in the emptiness of the brig. " _Starscream's_ the one that didn't want to go!"

It was hard to make out Thundercracker's expression when he was sat against the far wall of a dark little cell, but Skywarp could see his brow crease in confusion. "What?"

"That's right!" Skywarp's volume grew with his indignant righteousness. He stood, wings spread and gestures exuberant. " _He's_ the one that didn't want to come with me! He doesn't want to leave. He doesn't even want the sparkling!"

Thundercracker was silent.

"So- so it wasn't my fault!" Skywarp continued, losing a little of the wind from under his wings at Thundercracker's lack of response. "You know what it's like arguing with him. Like banging my head against a blast-proof door! Except the door's calling you an idiot in the process! ... _And_ he was _heavy_!"   
  
Thundercracker dropped his head into his hands, rubbing them over his face for a while. Skywarp shifted his footing, waiting for him to speak.

"Are you sure?" Thundercracker finally looked up.

"Yeah," Skywarp nodded, "He was really heavy-"

" _No_! About not wanting the sparkling!" Thundercracker put a hand against the wall to push himself up. He was running low on energy after the fight he'd put up, and the injuries he'd sustained in the process. Skywarp felt a tinge of sympathy.

"He wants to give it to the Autobots."

"But it's _Megatron's_ sparkling." Thundercracker breathed. "If he ever found out..."

Skywarp hadn't even _thought_ about possible retribution from the oblivious sire in this situation. He'd just been resentful at the missed opportunity of playing fun-uncle. He gripped his helm, "Oh slag, he'd kill Screamer!"

"He wouldn't kill him." Thundercracker said tonelessly.

"We can't let Starscream _do this_!" Skywarp declared, reaching for the energy bars to shake them in frustration. And electrocuting the palms of his hands in the process. "Ahh! _Ow_ , slag..."

"We can't force him to keep the sparkling." Thundercracker stroked his chin, pulling an 'I'm thinking' face. A handsome face, Skywarp had always thought. "But we can't let it be left with Autobots either."

"They'd turn it into a mini-Prime." Skywarp agreed, blowing on his hands and flapping them to cool them down. "Or worse; a _car_."

"A seeker-car?" Thundercracker sounded amused.

"It could be a gun? A car-gun?"

"You mean a tank."

Skywarp gasped in excitement. "Imagine a tank with Starscream's attitude? I wouldn't wanna set _that_ sparkling a bedtime."

He heard Thundercracker shudder and laughed lightly. Any sparkling of Starscream's would be a pit-raiser. Doubly so with Megatron's coding thrown into the mix.

They'd appreciate Skywarp's pranks though. Sparklings always did. And his jokes. It'd be nice to have a fresh audience for the first time in a few million years.

Skywarp's smile died away as he realised, "I guess we'd never know anyway..."

Thundercracker was quiet in his cell, and the silence that stretched between them couldn't be lightened by the jokes dying on the tip of Skywarp's glossa.

Starscream was stubborn to an incomprehensible degree. And he'd made up his mind. The chances of them taking that little sparkling -seeker, or gun, or tank, or whatever they might be- were growing increasingly slim.

Above them in the vents, unseen and unheard, Ravage couldn't help but privately disagree. 

 


	11. Chapter 11

The lights in the medbay were dim when Starscream woke, drawn out of his doze by the discomforting sensation of no longer being alone. His field had grown sensitive since he'd begun carrying, and he could easily sense the foreign presences about the room. One was Ratchet's, the other-

He winked on an optic, turning his head to see the now occupied medberth next to him. He recognised white shoulders and a red chest, and the unsightly sections of yellow armour that completely ruined an otherwise acceptably attractive frame.

Silverbolt. He was finally out of the operating theatre, though his blue optics were offline, his young face slack with whatever sedatives Ratchet had given him.

"You've got company." Ratchet himself spoke, and Starscream turned his head the other way to find the medic at his berthside. Shadows under his optics painted him in a menacing light, face stony and stoic, and Starscream remembered why so many Decepticons feared this old medic.

But then, Ratchet smiled, and though it was strained, it reminded Starscream that he was simply exhausted, and not out for someone to blame for his patient's injury.

"He's going to be fine." Ratchet supplied so Starscream didn't have to risk his reputation as a heartless monster by asking after him. "Young thing like him can bounce back from just about anything."

"Who shot him?" Starscream asked.

"Why?" Ratchet quirked a brow. "So you'll know who to promote when you get back to the Nemesis?"

"Hardly." Starscream's chest burned. He looked away, not wanting Ratchet see any vulnerability. "I owe your stupid little bot a favour. Paying his assailant back would have levelled the playing field."

Ratchet settled his hands on his hips, looking smug. "Aw, isn't that _sweet_ -"

"Shut up." Starscream hissed.

"No, I won't shut up." Ratchet's smile widened as he went to an equipment table. "You're starting to care about someone other than yourself. It must be your carrying protocols."

"He was kind to me." Starscream snarled, glancing quickly to the side to ensure Silverbot was still asleep and incapable to hearing any of this.

"And no one else is?" Ratchet asked softly, no longer teasing.

Starscream thought of Thundercracker and Skywarp, rusting away in the Autobot's brig. He swallowed thickly and didn't answer.

"How's your chest?" Ratchet moved on.

Starscream lifted a hand to it. The plating was warm and the internal components felt tender, but there was a strange emptiness to the spark chamber beneath. He let his spark pulse, and there was no echoing response of another weaker presence to answer him. He'd grown so used to the company. 

"It's- _oh_!"

His hand shot to his waist when instead of a spark answering him with a pulse of it's own, the protoform in his gestation tank gave him with a lively kick. He rubbed the armour over it, muttering a resentful, " _Ow_."

Ratchet looked satisfied. he must have already taken readings whilst Starscream had slept. "So it looks like it descended without any complications-"

"No complications? It felt like it was trying to burst out of my chest." Starscream reminded him.

"And you handled it with all the grace and composure I would have expected of you." Ratchet pattend his head. Starscream wasn't fast enough to smack him before he retreated. "I repaired Wheeljack's fingers by the way. After you crushed them."

"Who else's fingers was I supposed to crush." Starscream muttered, rubbing his middle. "You weren't here."

Ratchet hummed acceptingly, letting it go. "Now that all my patients are stable, we have a few more issues to address. Like those dumbafts you call trine-mates who-"

"-Are too stubborn for their own good." Starscream finished for him, thinking that was a dilemma he didn't need. "Knock them out and dump them on a coastline somewhere. They won't leave willingly."

Ratchet looked grim, and for a moment Starscream worried that something had happened to them. That they'd resisted and been hurt, been-

"Optimus has been taken." Ratchet just came out with it before Starscream's panic could escalate.

His anxiety did not ease. "...And what does Megatron want?"

"Cubes." Ratchet sighed, "Your trine... And you."

Wonderful. Starscream had been wondering when Megatron was going to get over himself enough to realise he needed him back. It was unfortunately a week earlier than he'd needed it to be.

He searched Ratchet's face for what the medic was thinking. Prime was worth more to him and the Autobots than their sense of morality. They'd never abandon their leader for someone as insignificant as him, even if he was carrying. He swallowed.

"You said you'd induce me." His mouth felt dry. He wet his lips. "If you do it now-"

"You're not ready." Ratchet interrupted. "And you're not going anywhere. Optimus... Optimus would want us to wait."

"...Megatron won't have a lot of patience."

Ratchet laughed. "No, but Optimus is pretty good at distracting him."

Starscream scowled, because _yes_ , Optimus _was_.

"Not long now anyway." Ratchet gripped his hand, casting a knowing glance over Starscream's ample frame. "Another few days I think."

Another few days, and the kicking sensation in his tanks was going to be out of him and _exist_ as a whole new individual. It was strange to think that it was already alive inside him. A being with fingers and toe-pedes, optics and a nose. It already had it's own little thoughts and feelings and whims- like kicking it's creator at every opportunity.

And soon Starscream would meet it. And not long after that, he would have to say goodbye...

He looked between his middle and the foolish Aerialbot unconscious on the next berth other, wondering if Silverbolt would have any role in his sparklings future, after he had left.

He founding himself hoping he did.

 

* * *

 

Things hadn't been going Megatron's way as of late. Between the first failed raid and all that had happened with Starscream, he had begun to despair, to wallow in his own failures. Struggled with his sense of identity and his role in this war.

But now? _Now_ Prime was in his grasp and at his mercy. Their most recent raid had been a applauded success and he had energon enough to fuel his mechs a dozen times over, and more to spare. Yes, there had been losses. Thundercracker and Skywarp somehow becoming hostages of the Autobots, but he had Prime. Having Prime would be more than enough leverage for troublesome seekers. _Three_ troublesome seekers.

He was emboldened, and he could face even the most cooperative Starscream now. He was sure the stuck-up, ungrateful little brat would have come to his sense by now anyway, and time away always did improve Starscream's demeanour. He fully expected the little fool to leap at him across the battle-lines when they reunited, as he had the last time they had been separated.

Yes, he had proved himself now. He was a competent leader and he would be a competent sire too. Starscream would see that soon enough.

"Is Prime conscious?" He asked when Soundwave came to join him in the throne room.

Soundwave hesitated. "To an extent. Prime has minor processor damage."

Megatron snorted, unsympathetic, "Really, and here I thought that thick helm of his would be protection enough."

Soundwave didn't appear to find him funny. "Prime is refusing to cooperate."

Megatron really couldn't care. "What do we need his cooperation for. He's a hostage. He can kick up as much of a fuss as he wants."

Soundwave unnaturally stiff. "Prime left his Autobots specific instructions in the event of his capture. Instructions regarding Starscream."

Megatron's good mood slipped away like water down a drain. He felt cold, dark feelings creeping back in. This time though, there was no numbing apathy in regards to Starscream. The sting of their last argument had been soothed by time and distance, and now all he had left was a longing to repair what remained. He _needed_ him back.

He straightened, olfactory flaring as he worked to even his breaths. "This is abnormal. Even for Prime. Something must be wrong."

"The latest intelligence reports confirm Starscream is in relatively good health." Soundwave tried to reassure him. "We are awaiting Ravage's return with updated intel."

"Relatively?" Megatron repeated.

Soundwave didn't elaborate. "The Autobots will not release Starscream. Not for hostage exchange or otherwise."

" _What!?"_ Megatron hissed, an awful thought manifesting. "They've had him for weeks! If that little traitor's even _thinking_ defecting, I'll march up to that hideous orange base of theirs myself, and-"

"Starscream; is not defecting." Soundwave said quickly.

"Where is Prime?" He demanded, not longer caring to listen.

"Wait." Soundwave tried to follow him. "Prime is not of sound mind. His information may be incorrect."

"You're hiding something." Megatron suddenly realised, whirling round and turning on him. Soundwave's visor flashed brightly. "You _are_ hiding something. And Prime knows what it is."

"Negative."

"I have a right to know."

Soundwave had nothing more to say. Megatron barged past him and headed straight for the brig. He would get to the bottom of this himself.

Soundwave was wise enough not to follow.

 

* * *

 

The _Ark_ quieter than the _Nemesis_  ever was at night. No one was sneaking in and out of the base, smuggling contraband to secret parties. For Decepticons, they were never particularly subtle, running up and down the hallways, giggling and stumbling, whisper-shouting to one another to 'be quiet!' lest they be caught. Some mornings, he and Megatron would wake to find steamers and confetti littering a conference room or spilling out into the corridors. The amount of vandalism left behind was always a good indication of whether the party had been a good one or not. Starscream often resented never getting invited.

But then, he and Megatron were often busy in the evenings doing their own... thing.

In the relative silence, Starscream should have easily drifted off to the white noise of humming medical equipment and Silverbolt's steady intakes.

But instead he sighed heavily when _yet again_ the little monster in his gestation tank kicked him in the fuel pump.

"Already taking after your sire," he muttered, stroking a hand down his front. The activity within died down, so Starscream kept his hand in place, wondering if all protoforms were this violent, or if he had his and Megatron's coding to thank for this.

Either way, recharging was becoming increasingly difficult. It was uncomfortable laying on his back all day, wings trapped beneath him, but he couldn't roll onto his side or lay on his front. The sooner he was back to his natural size and shape, the better.

And he hoped none of this left him with scars or misshapen armour. He had an image to uphold. Not to mention how Megatron might notice. The old mech was suprising observant when it came to ogling his frame. Starscream remembered not so long ago when he had changed the red of his amour from cherry to crimson. Thundercracker and Skywarp hadn't noticed.

_"You look older," Megatron had purred, lips dragging over the new red within moments of seeing it. "In a good way. Mature."_

The sparkling in his gestation tank moved again.

"Alright." He muttered to it. "Stop eavesdropping on my emotions."

The sparkling didn't listen, behaving even more restlessly now. Starscream wondered if it was responding to his longing for Megatron, or if it had a longing for it's sire of it's very own. Would the two of them have a bond if they never met? Or would the week or so Starscream had still been with Megatron whilst carrying have been enough to build that connection?

And would any of _his_ bond with the new-spark remain after he had left? Would he be forgotten when new perfect Autobot parents swept in to take his place?

Would it hate him, when it grew up to know he'd left it behind?

Megatron would. If he ever learned of the sparkling he'd never have the chance to meet. He'd never forgive him.

He was lucky it was late and the lights were off. He didn't need there to be recorded proof of him crying on Autobot security cameras.

He was about to drift off, new-spark subdued with misery, when he heard a quiet scratching noise in the ceiling above him. It sounded like the Autobots had a vermin problem. He looked to the side, but the noise hadn't roused the drugged Silverbolt, so he couldn't ask.

He offlined his optics and decided to ignore it.

Until there was a dull thump at the other end of the medbay.

Starscream's optics snapped open. An air vent cover was hanging open at the top of the bulkhead, swaying back and forth.

Slowly, silently, he sat up. It was a challenge in his condition, and the view didn't improve much. The medbay was dark and cluttered, if something had gotten in here, something here to harm him -a rouge Autobot perhaps, some sort of Earth monster- he wouldn't see it until it was right on top of him.

 _Something_ brushed his leg and he screamed. A paw shot out of nowhere and covered his mouth, claws grazing his cheek. Starscream stilled, and Ravage's narrowed red optics appeared with a blink above him.

"Hmm!" He protested.

He glanced sideways. But Silverbolt ( _useless_ mechling) hadn't so much as stirred from his drug induced coma.

Satisfied he wasn't going to scream again, Ravage slowly withdrew his paw.

Starscream wiped his mouth furiously. Stupid cat had been walking around on the organic ground with that thing, picking up all manner of germs.

"What the _frag_ are you doing?" He hissed, keeping his voice as low as possible. "Looking to join my trine in the brig? Why are you here?"

 _I have been sent to knock some well needed sense into you_ , Ravage's harsh voice snarled through a private comm channel, dark lips drawing back to bare his sharp denta. _Soundwave has been informed of my findings and no doubt, he will tell Megatron of your ill conceived plot to barter our faction's future._

Barter their future? He couldn't mean- Starscream's spark jumped into his throat. Thundercracker and Skywarp had sworn only they and Soundwave knew he was carrying. Liars.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He sniffed cooly, deciding to ignore how _visibly_ sparked he currently was. Perhaps a drone like Ravage wouldn't notice.

 _Return with me now and save yourself further punishment,_ Ravage advised, ignoring his feigned ignorance and sitting back on his haunches, head high and smug. _I am aware of your plans to abandon the sparkling, sired by our leader, here of all places. Not a wise decision._

Starscream wasn't about to take a _cat_ insulting his intelligence lying down. 

"What does it matter to you?!" He whispered furiously, leaning in. "It's not _your_ sparkling."

 _It is Lord Megatron's_ , Ravage agreed with emphasis. _Believe it or not, but I am here to help you._

"You're here to help Megatron."

 _Correct_. Ravage nodded firmly. _You are fortunate your wellbeing coincides so closely with his._

"Well my wellbeing is in the hands of the Autobots. I can't go with you even if I wanted. I'm-" he looked down at himself. "I am bed bound."

 _Obviously_ , Ravage flicked his tail. _But we have a while yet left before the sparkling is due to emerge. Consider not only your future, but the new-sparks, in the time you have left. I would like to return to the Nemesis with the promise of your cooperation before Soundwave reveals your condition to Megatron._

Starscream sneered and promised nothing. He'd be having the sparkling far sooner than Ravage realised anyway, if Ratchet came through on his promise to induce him early that was. If he planned this well, he might even have it before Soundwave and his drones had the chance to sell him out to Megatron.

Ravage didn't press him for a decision anyway. _I will be back with further instructions. He stood, tail swishing. In the meanwhile, do not do anything stupid. Megatron will come for you both when he can._

He jumped off the medberth and slinked across the room. Starscream watched him leap back into the air vent, disappearing as silently as a whisper. Starscream was once again left to silence.

Ravage's promises bounced about in his processor; 'Megatron will come for you'. He wondered if that was a reassurance, or a threat.

And he wondered why part of him longed for it whatever the reason.

Stupid sparkling protocols.

 

* * *

 

After suffering Soundwave's lengthy interrogation, telepathic abuse, and his own injuries, Optimus had naively allowed himself the false sense of security that they might leave him alone to rest through the remainder of the night. He was wrong.

There was a slight delay in his reaction times from the worsening processor damage, so by the time he'd lifted his head in response to the sound of approaching footsteps leading up to his cell, their owner was already storming into the dank little space and bellowing threats at him.

Optimus blinked, realising it was Megatron.

"Hello old friend." He greeted cheerfully. The battle mask had been ripped off his face, so his smile was visible. It didn't do much to improve his enemy's mood.

"Don't smirk at me, Prime," Megatron levelled a dangerous finger at him. "Whatever game you have been playing, it is up. You will instruct your mechs to hand Starscream over."

Optimus couldn't do that, for obvious reasons he shouldn't reveal to Megatron. Because Starscream was defenceless and sparked, sparked with Megatron's offspring, and Megatron knowing that was not currently in anyone's best interests. Apparently. His head swam, struggling with logic that had previously been simple.

He blinked and found the sharp end of a sword an inch from his olfactory. "Oh," he said, wondering where that had come from.

"Why have you taken him?" Megatron spoke coldly.

"I am protecting him." Optimus said firmly, then wondered in his muddled processor, if that had been the right thing to say.

"Starscream is not a mech who needs protecting." The sword was closer now, turning, blade glinting in the light. Optimus had to lean back to avoid an injury, but the sharp tip followed him.

"You have a surprisingly handsome face, Prime," Megatron continued. "Don't make me give you a reason to want to hide it from the world."

"I don't wear a battle mask to hide." Optimus denied.

"I don't care," Megatron was snarling, jabbing the blade closer. "Why are you protecting Starscream? What has he done?!"

"Nothing. None of this is his fault. No one is to blame."

Megatron optics brightened with interest, and now Optimus _knew_ he shouldn't have said that. He struggled to reset his cognitive functions, knowing he had to gather his wits about him, or at least silence himself should the first option prove difficult. "...I misspoke."

"I don't think you did, Prime." Megatron dropped into a crouch, sword still extended threateningly. "Who else are you protecting? One of your own mechs? Did they do something to my seeker? Did Starscream do something to _them_? Your mechs should know by now not to provoke him-"

"Starscream is undeserving of his reputation." Optimus blurted, probably because he'd become compromised since this entire debacle began. Starscream was a formidable opponent, yes, but Optimus had come to see him in a new light. Starscream had now thrown up in front of him too many times to really be seen as the sparkless killing machine Autobot propaganda had once painted him as.  

He had been silent for too long. The sword loomed closer. "Gotten to know him well, have you?"

There was a decisively jealous note in Megatron's tone. Possesive and dangerous. Optimus struggled to focus his optics on Megatron's face, and beyond the fury he could see there, he found something more like fear. He wondered if threats and bluster and anger were simply how Megatron expressed his more vulnerable emotions. Perhaps he _did_ care for Starscream, in his own dysfunctional way.

The sword dropped, and Optimus blinked.

"Get up." Megatron snapped. "You're coming to the command centre. I'm going to contact those fools you call a faction and you're going to order them to put Starscream on. I will get to the bottom of this."

Optimus swayed as he rose groggily. Megatron cast a calculating optic over him.

"Perhaps we'll have the processor damage seen to first." He amended.

Optimus tried to blink again, but _this_ time the action glitched. Instead he winked, one optic at a time. At Megatron. Megatron looked understandably uncomfortable.

"Yes, I think would be best." Optimus agreed. "My mind is somewhat scattered."

Megatron grunted an agreement.

"Do I have you to thank?" He asked, lifting cuffed hands to rub at the dent in his helm.

"It was an accident." Megatron said gruffly. "I underestimated the width of a doorway."

Megatron maliciously slamming his head against a hard surface simply because he could? Possible. Megatron accidentally slamming his head against a doorway in clumsiness? Much more likely.

"I should hope you handle your sparkling with more care." Optimus joked lightly, watching Megatron deactivate cell security.

Megatron stopped, turning to face him. "My _what_?"

Optimus felt the world rapidly shrink. Frozen with horror, he watched the confusion on Megatron's face morph into dawning realisation.

 _Annnd_ , there was that sinking feeling again. 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Ratchet hadn't so much as had the time to consume his morning fuel before he was accosted by an emotional, waddling, and definitely-not-supposed-to-be-out-of-berth-yet seeker. He slammed the cube down on his desk and rushed to meet Starscream at the door before he did something disastrous like fall over.

"You better be running from a fire! I told you to stay on that berth!"

Starscream was red in the face from the momentous task of having to haul his weighty and recovering frame down the hallway from the next room. He kept one hand gripping the doorframe and used the other to try and slap Ratchet away.

"Don't shout at me!" He shouted. "This is an emergency!"

He was damn right it was an emergency. Ratchet comm'ed for whoever was on duty to come down to medical and help him coax Starscream back to berth before he ended up inducing himself into an emergence. Weathering the slapping protests, Ratchet managed to turn Starscream by the shoulders and start guiding him back the way he'd come.

"Never met such a pig-headed-"

"I need to have the sparkling today!"

"No, you're not having it today." Ratchet reassured him, somewhat gentler now that it was apparent Starscream was actually upset, rather than throwing his usual morning tantrum. "Don't start panicking-"

"No, I need it induced today!" Starscream tried to dig his heels in, but he was so unbalanced he nearly fell over. Ratchet caught him before his aft could clang to the ground. Starscream's weight was Pit on his own ageing joints. His knees clicked.

"Up you _get_ ," he grimaced, hoisting Starscream upright again.

"If you refuse to do your job, I'll do it myself!" Starscream was saying furiously.

"Do what yourself?"

"Induce it."

Ratchet paused. Starscream had previously been expressing a lot of worry about inducing the sparkling early. Now suddenly he was desperate to have it? "...Alright, what's gotten you so riled up? Nightmare?"

"I don't have _nightmares_." Starscream's cheeks brightened. "And this is real. Megatron knows. They _all_ know. They're going to take me back!"

Ratchet doubted that was true. Megatron would only know if Optimus had told him, and Ratchet knew Optimus had enough sense not to share such a thing willingly. As for unwillingly? Optimus wasn't an easy bolt to twist when it came to interrogations.

He rubbed Starscream's shoulders. "No, Starscream-"

"Yes!" Starscream threw his arms down. "You Autobots and your pathetic security defences! _Ravage_ was here. He's reported it back. He's reported everything back! I'm- you have to get this thing out of me before Megatron comes to claim it. We- we can tell him it died. That I miscarried! You can hide it."

Ratchet began to rub at his temples. Starscream was offloading information on him faster than he had time to really contemplate it. He'd had his suspicions, so he couldn't pretend to be surprised, but, "Before _Megatron_ comes to claim it?"

Starscream panted, verbally scrambling to shove the cats back into their bags. "Well it's- I just meant- it would just be another solider to him. Another Decepticon."

"And that's the only reason Megatron would want you to keep this sparkling? Not because..." Ratchet quirked a knowing brow. "Because he had some personal connection to it? To you?"

Starscream was silent, staring at a point on the floor.

"Starscream." Ratchet struggled to keep his tone even. "If Megatron knows about the new-spark, and he does have a claim to it-"

"He doesn't!"

"I don't believe you."

Starscream's optics paled. "You want to _give_ it to him? You think _he_ could raise it?"

"That's not for me to decide-"

"No! It's for me to decide!" Starscream shouted. Ratchet reached for him, worried for his emotional state, and what it could escalate when he was so late into carrying, but Starscream slapped him off. "How the frag can you expect that idiot to raise a sparkling when he can't maintain a single functional relationship with anyone?! When he's so emotionally stunted he can't be trusted to take care of himself, let alone an innocent new-spark?!"

"Starscream," Ratchet tried.

Starscream thrust a finger at him. "You said sparklings need love and bonds and all that nonsense-"

"You need to calm-"

"-but where's that love coming from?! Him? _Me?_ When we can't even love each other?!"

"Starscream!" Ratchet snapped, now unable to ignore the puddle they were stood in. "Your gestation seal has broken."

"I-!" Starscream paused, finger in the air. He looked down, then up again with wide, bright optics. "I-?"

"Need to get back to the berth," Ratchet hid his mountain of concerns behind a cool facade, taking Starscream's elbow and guiding him once again back into the medbay. Starscream had now shocked himself into compliance, but Ratchet could see the nervous shake to his wings.

" _Congratulations_ on inducing yourself," he muttered.

"I didn't- I-"

Ratchet assumed he was trying to say that he didn't _mean_ to do it, and he probably didn't. And it was probably as much Ratchet's own fault for creating a situation in which Starscream had gotten himself so hysteric. He shouldn't have pushed the 'Megatron' button. But what was done was done. He had plenty enough to worry about now; not just what was going to be a difficult delivery, but the potential aftermath of which as well if what Starscream said was true. 

He could only hope Megatron didn't decide to blast his way into the medbay halfway through Starscream's emergence. That would be far from ideal.

Back in the medbay, Silverbolt was upright on his berth, looking much better than he had the evening before, if still a little bleary optic'd from the sedatives.

"I heard shouting?" He murmured gently, optics on Starscream. They tracked down his frame and must have noticed the not inconspicuous tracks of gestation fluid running down his legs. He quickly averted his gaze and began pushing his berth clothes away. "I- I guess I should-"

"Sit your aft back down." Ratchet ordered. "You're not cleared to leave yet."

Silverbolt's entire face started to glow. "But Starscream-"

"Won't mind you being here." Ratchet looked to Starscream's uncharacteristically blank face. "Will you?"

Starscream blinked, coming back to himself. "What?"

"You don't mind an audience?" He nodded to the petrified Aerialbot.

"An audience?" Starscream glanced at Silverbolt, an indignant frown forming. "I didn't realise this was a spectator sport."

"It is in some places." Ratchet allowed himself a smirk now Starscream seemed more like himself. "Let's get that sparkling out of you. Then we can worry about the rest later. Ready?"

Starscream sat on the berth and swung his legs up. After a moments consideration, he nodded.

Good. Ratchet rubbed cleanser over his hands and dragged an equipment table over. "Lets see what's going on in there."

On the next berth over, Silverbolt muffled an embarrassed noise and tried to hide behind his hands. Poor mechling. What a time to be injured.

 

* * *

 

Optimus's bizarre night was only growing weirder.

Megatron had taken the news surprisingly well. He remained calm, patient, unruffled, and even came through on his promise to order his medics to have Optimus's processing malfunction repaired. He hadn't said much since the proverbial cyber-cat jumped out of the bag. He hadn't said _anything_ actually.

As the medics worked, Optimus allowed himself to feel a small measure of relief. Megatron could still be reasonable. Perhaps this situation wasn't going to be as complicated as he had feared.

The medic closed the panel on his helm and Optimus initiated a system reboot. Everything powered down for a brief moment, before blinking back online, one system at a time. The haze of the malfunction was gone, his thoughts were clear once again.

Before him stood Megatron, who had been watching the repairs take place with that cool, contemplative expression he had adopted since hearing the news. Optimus couldn't help but feel impressed. Were _he_ to learn out of the blue that he was mere days away from becoming a sire... Well, he wasn't entirely sure how he would react, but he certainly wouldn't have been able to feign such a high level of tranquility.

"He's functioning normally?" Megatron broke the silence with an intimidating rumble, speaking to the medic but not once taking his gaze off Optimus.

"Yes." The medic said confidently.

Megatron approached, optics narrowing and suspicious. "You hit your head."

" _You_ hit my head." Optimus corrected. "I was suffering from a minor malfunction, Megatron. Not memory loss."

"Then you can recall what you last said to me?"

"About the sparkling."

"Yes..." Megatron said quietly, demeanour taking a menacing turn. Gone was the stoicism, the calm. His hands at his sides curled into fists. "The sparkling. Who was either the mad ramblings of a glitch,  _or_...?  

Optimus thought it prudent not to say a damn thing, not to even blink.

Megatron came closer, studying him. "Nothing to say?"

"What do you want me to say?" 

"Is it true?" 

There was no point in denying anything. The thought had been put into Megatron's head and it wasn't going anywhere. He remained defiantly silent anyway, not for his sake, but Starscream's. It was him this would all fall back on. 

Megatron took his silence for what it was. Lips pressed together, olfactory flaring. Optimus could see the shake of his clenched jaw as he ground his denta together.

"You are _sure_ he is not malfunctioning." Megatron demanded of the medic again.

Optimus saw a hurried nod out of the corner of his optic.

And at that, Megatron straightened abruptly. Optimus didn't get the chance to see his face before he had turned and swiftly left the room without explanation, leaving him with the medic.

"...Is he coming back?" Optimus murmured after a sufficiently awkward pause.

Receiving no response, he turned to glance at the medic, only to find the Constructicon stood with his hand over his optics.

 Starscream had been right to be concerned over his faction's ability to cope with this.

 

* * *

 

Starscream's tanks twisted again, and it wasn't quite pain, but it was incredibily uncomfortable. He sat up, swinging his legs off the berth.

Ratchet caught him immediately. "I said sit your aft down!"

"It doesn't feel right!" Starscream argued.

Something was urging him to get up and move around like his frame thought he was in the wrong place, or like he needed to find something or someone before he could relax. But as far as what Ratchet had told him (and everyone else unfortunate enough to have been in that lecture) reclining on his back was the best position for a carrier to adopt during pre-emergence, and the only company he would need is that of a competent medics. The less witnesses, the better. 

Before the actual emergence could take place, the protoform inside his gestation chamber would need curl itself into a protective ball. It was a slow process and it required both a relaxed, sedate carrier and a lot of time and patience. Any sudden jostling or rigorous activity would urge the protoform out of the curled shape again, and the longer it took to position itself, the longer the emergence would take, and the greater strain on the carrier.

Apparently, _why_ seekers were so 'bad' at carrying was because they could never sit still.

"Starscream!" Ratchet thundered, barging back over when he didn't do as he was told.

"You should do what he says." Silverbolt whispered behind his hand, sounding terrified.

"No, I," Starscream slipped off the berth and sank to the floor. The deck was cool and soothing on his overheating frame. This felt better.   
  
Ratchet's pedes appeared. "Get off the _floor_ , Starscream."

A hand under his arm began to lift him, and reluctantly, Starscream complied. Mostly due to the sudden spasm of pain going up his back.

" _Ah_ -fragging- bastard-!"

"Easy," Ratchet soothed as he cursed. Silverbolt looked like he wanted to jump up and come to his side too, but Ratchet waved him down. "You're alright. Just lay back."

Starscream flopped back and did as he was told this time. It didn't help the pain. Pressure in his gestation tank flexed, like the protoform was stretching out into a starfish position. Stupid little thing. It was supposed to make itself _small_ , not lounge out like- like it's sire did on the throne!

Ratchet was invading his privacy with some sort of scanner, humming as he read the results. "A while yet," he confirmed. "It still isn't in position."

"You don't think?!" Starscream hissed, frame pumping out so much heat Ratchet's cooling fans can to click on just from being near him.

The medic ignored his sass, grumbling under his breath that he was letting 'the attitude' slide, for now, and going back to the datapads he had been pouring over since the gestation seal had broken. Starscream glimpsed the title; 'Frame-type Gestation Differentiation'.

"You know what you're doing, don't you?" He asked nervously, hoping Ratchet wasn't studying for the 'exam' the morning of.

Ratchet looked up, "This will be one of my trickier deliveries." He admitted. "I've helped fliers through emergences before, but never a seeker. And certainly not someone carrying a coding-hybrid."

"Hybrid?" Starscream questioned, breathing through a mild contraction of pain. It felt like his struts were trying to separate.

"When two incompatible or near incompatible frame-types create a protoform together." Ratchet shrugged. "Now that I _finally_ know the identity of the sire, I won't be going in completely blind, but it's no wonder the carrying has been hard on you, considering..."

Considering _fragging **Megatron**_ , Starscream finished privately.

"Either way," Ratchet swiped to change a page, "hybrids of this extent aren't an every day occurrence."

"It's not going to be a freak is it?!" Starscream yelped.

"No, I would have noticed by now. They'll just be... unique."

"Where I'm from that's just another word for 'freak'."

Ratchet lowered the datapad. "Starscream, the chances of two completely different sets of coding somehow working together are ten trillion to one. I meant unique, as in _rare_." 

"...So, a freak." Starscream confirmed.

Ratchet appeared to give up, scowling. "If it's a freak, it'll only be because it's related to you."

Starscream refrained from saying it would be Megatron's fault if the sparkling was a freak. But he didn't want to remind anyone of the sparking's sire more than was strictly necessary. Silverbolt had been watching the entire exchange with interest, and Starscream couldn't be sure how much of his earlier breakdown the Aerialbot may have heard. Either way, he didn't need the sparkling's parentage becoming common knowledge about the enemy base.

He was about to ask Ratchet if he could see the datafile, if only to give him something to distract himself with. The emergence wasn't looking like it was going to be a quick affair at this rate- when, just to prove him wrong, another wave of pain rolled through him.

He gasped and lurched forward, grabbing at his middle. The pain seemed at it's worse at the base of his spine, but he suffered from throbbing aches everywhere from the waist down. He clenched his jaw tight, coolant building in the channels below his optics.

It passed, and when he blinked his optics back online, he found Ratchet's concerned face hoovering over him.

Blaster wounds, electrocution, limb loss, and stabbings; all of which he had suffered and overcome. This was worse. Worse than anything he had ever felt. And it hadn't even truly started yet.

He couldn't do this.

He started shaking his head, exhausted, wrung out.

"You can do this." Ratchet said.

"No."

"Yes you can, you're Starscream," Ratchet nodded. "Any other mech, I'd be worried about. Not you."

Starscream didn't believe him. He would like to. But he didn't. He was weak. He wasn't strong enough to bring this sparkling into the world and he wasn't strong enough to raise it. He couldn't do it. Not alone, crying in front of Autobots.

Sympathy was written across every inch of Ratchet's grim face. "Let's see about getting some help up here, shall we?"

So _more_ Autobots could witness his humiliation? Starscream sobbed, shaking his head, but Ratchet made the call anyway.

 

* * *

 

"Mech," Thundercracker decided after a short pause.

"Femme," Skywarp shook his head, "Definitely a femme. You can tell."

"How?" Thundercracker sounded incredulous.

"From the way his wings look. If they're low, it's a femme. You can always tell."

Thundecracker was silent for a while. "...That's a load of slag, Warp."

"Not it's not! Ramjet said you could always tell if a carrier's going to have a mech or a femme by looking at their wings!"

"Oh, well if _Ramjet said_ ," Thundercracker started sarcastically.

"Well, what do you know?"

"More than Ramjet, that's for sure."

" _You've_ never had a sparkling."

"Yes, and we all know Ramjet's the leading authority on carrying and has had hundreds." Thundercracker scoffed. "He probably doesn't even know how new-sparks are made, let alone how to tell if one's going to a mech or a femme."

Skywarp thought for a moment, and had to privately concede that Thundercracker was probably right. Ramjet really wasn't a leading authority on... well, on anything really. He'd taken too many hits to the processor to be considered a reliable source of information.

"I still think it's a femme."

"And I still think it's a mech." Thundercracker said. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

That's if they ever got the chance to see. Unlikely.

Skywarp was just thinking about what else they could argue about to pass the time -they'd already covered the sparkling's potential frame-type, weight, colour scheme- when the door to the brig sprung open on it's juddering track.

Skywarp jumped up and tried to get a look at who was approaching. He spotted red armour and a broad, strong frame.

"It's Ironaft!" he whisper-shouted across to Thundercracker.

"Iron _hide!_ " The Autobot in question corrected, already pretty grumpy. "One of yous is comin' with me. Pick."

For what?! Skywarp instantly envisioned torture and interrogation.

"Not it!" He yelped before thinking.

"Skywarp!" Thundercracker snapped.

"Alright you," Ironhide agreed, moving to open Thundercracker's cell.

"No wait!" Skywarp pleaded, "Where are you taking him?!"

"Screamer's in labour." Ironhide deactivated the bars to Thundercracker's cell and gestured for him to step out. Thundercracker did, stumbling.

"He is?"

Skywarp leant forwards- spark skipping a beat- and accidentally electrocuted his nose on the energy bars. "Ah!"

"Is Starscream alright." There was waver to Thundercracker's voice. "Can we see him?"

Ironhide took Thundercracker's cuffed wrists and began leading him off. " _You_ can."

"Hey!" Skywarp yelled after them, rubbing his scorched nose. "What about me!? Don't leave me! TC!"

Thundercracker was looking between his Autobot escort and him, obviously conflicted. "I- I have to see him. I have to make sure he's alright."

Skywarp wanted to shake the bars in frustration. "He's my trine-mate too! Hey! Autobot! You hear me?! He's my trine-mate too!"

"Pipe down!" Ironhide barked back. "There's only room fer one."

Skywarp watched them go, spark wilting at the thought of missing it. "But _I_ want to be there too."

 

* * *

 

Thundercracker wasn't sure what to expect. Ironhide took him from the darkness of the brig and up onto the third deck through an elevator. The _Ark_ was clean and bright for a warship. Thundercracker thought of all the puddles and rust littering the _Nemesis_ , and wondered if maybe Starscream had been onto something in wanting to have the sparkling here.

Outside the doors to the medbay, Ironhide paused, comm'ed someone, and waited.

Thundercracker shifted his footing, anxious at the delay. "Aren't we going in?"

The warrior's face darkened. "Yer going in, sure. But whatevers goin' on in there, I don't care t' see it."

Thundercracker began to roll his optics but then the doors were opening. Ironhide gave him a good shove over the threshold and quickly backed away, like he was flinging a grenade into a trench. Thundercracker straightened in time to see the doors shutting again.

He turned and surveyed the medbay, and _there_ was Starscream. 

He was on a berth against the far wall, next to a wide optic'd Aerialbot who didn't seem to know where to look. Not much seemed to have happened yet. Starscream was lying on his back with a screwed up, pained expression, and Ratchet was off to one side, hastily flicking through datafiles.

He swallowed, throat dry.

"Starscream?" He stepped forward.

Both Autobots looked up, Silverbolt scowling, and Ratchet waving him over casually.

Thundercracker paid them no mind. At the sound of his voice Starscream onlined wet optics, and his expression collapsed. He made the most pathetically relieved noise.

Thundercracker dodged equipment tables and berths to reach him, overwhelmed with concern.

"Starscream." He breathed, reaching his side and swinging his cuffed hands, chain and all, over Starscream's neck so he could embrace him. Ratchet made a disapproving noise that was very much ignored by them both.

Wet cheeks smeared coolant on his cockpit as Starscream pressed closer to him with a sniff. Thundercracker could hear the whine of taxed systems, feel the heat of Starscream's overworked frame drenching his own. He let his chin rest atop Starscream's helm, stroking a soothing hand down his back.

He was able to enjoy it for all of three seconds, until Starscream turned his head away with a disgusted noise.

"Oh, get off of me. Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Very busy." Thundercracker relented, lifting his arms away and giving Starscream a little space -but mostly taking him in for himself. When Thundercracker had seen him before, he'd been restrained by Autobots and unable to take a closer look. Now that Starscream was right in front of him? Wow.

He only just managed to stop himself from making comment on how big he was.

"I was hoping for a seeker." He admitted with a smile. "But unless you're having twins, I don't think it is."

Starscream scowled, unamused. "You don't think."

"Don't tease him." The medic's rough voice interrupted, looking over the top of a datapad. "You're only here to keep him calm so that sparkling moves itself into position. Any funny business-" he lifted his wrench in a wordless threat.

"Yes, because threatening my trine-mate is really going to help relax me." Starscream snapped.

"Why are you talking?" Ratchet turned on his own patient then. "I told you to shut up and count to one thousand."

"I _was_ -"

"Then do it!"

Thundercracker watched in amazement as Starscream shut his mouth and let Ratchet have the last word. That was a first.

"...Am I allowed to talk?"

Thundercracker's had forgotten about the other Autobot in the room. He glared at Silverbolt. "Why are _you_ here?"

"He's a patient." Ratchet growled. "Leave him alone."

Thundercracker glanced at Starscream and Starscream nodded his approval. The Autobot was no threat then, but Thundercracker kept an optic on him nonetheless.

"How long have you been waiting?" He asked quietly, giving Starscream's wing a stroke. The action noticeably soothed Starscream. Ratchet lifted his helm a fraction, watching them with interest.

"Feels like days." Starscream murmured, worried Ratchet would hear him speaking and shout again.

And Ratchet did hear, but didn't shout, calling from the the other side of the room. "It's been two hours, drama queen."

"And it still hasn't moved into position." Thundercracker frowned, letting his hand fall away from Starscream's wing.

"You're not doing anything to relax me by talking about it." Starscream hissed. "And keep stroking my wing. It stops the kicking."

Thundercracker returned to his assigned job obediently and Ratchet joined them again at Starscream's berth-side. Looking contemplative, he reached for the other wing.

Starscream flicked it out of his grasp with an indignant hiss. "Don't touch that."

Ratchet hesitated. "... I thought I would be helping."

"Only a mate, or trine, can touch wings like this." Thundercracker explained for Starscream, glaring at the medic as he massaged the sensitive joins along the wing edge.

Ratchet's optics nearly rolled into the back of his helm. He grumbled something unsavoury under his breath and lifted his communicator. "Hide," he said. "Bring Skywarp up here."

Thundercracker smiled at the hopeful smile Starscream was trying to stifle. "Just to warn you." He bent close to murmur, "He's going to be a little overexcited."

The smile fell off Starscream's face. "Don't you dare let him hug me."

 

* * *

 

Optimus had been left alone for some time now, and had had plenty of time to think.

He could assume one of two things; Megatron was either plotting, or having an emotional breakdown. And there was always the terrifying possibility that he was attempting to do both at the same time, which likely wouldn't result in anything good either.

After what felt like hours, Megatron deigned to return.

He seemed functional, his face grim and dark, but there was no manic glint to his optics. Perhaps he'd underestimated Megatron's ability to roll with the punches.

"So," Megatron began in a smooth, dangerous voice. "You have been conspiring with my own high command to conceal my offspring from me?"

Optimus shrugged casually, thinking he couldn't possibly make this situation worse. "That must have been a coincidence actually. We didn't conspire together. Your mechs must have as little faith in your state of mind as I do."

Megatron's olfactory flared, but he didn't lash out violently. Optimus wasn't sure if that was necessarily a good sign.

"We'll just have to prove them wrong then, won't we." Megatron rasped.

Optimus looked around for a third person, concerned. " _We_?"

"Get up, Prime." Megatron revealed the key to his cuffs. "We're going on a little trip."

"Megatron," Optimus said gently, "Lets not do anything stupid. Starscream is- Starscream is _very_ late-"

"Then time is of the essence." Megatron snarled, hauling him up by the shoulder and dragging him from the cell. " _Move_."

 


	13. Chapter 13

Optimus thanked Primus for gifting him with such long legs. Megatron strode through the _Nemesis_ at a speed that threatened to set off a sonic boom, dragging him behind by the connecting chain in his cuffs. The quick pace did nothing to aid Optimus's navigation of the unfamiliar base. The Decepticons had never heard of health and safety by the looks of things. The decking was uneven, littered with puddles, and none of the hazards could be seen for how low the overhead lighting was. He didn't see an approaching turn in the corridor until Megatron was ruthlessly yanking him to the side to prevent him from smacking into a bulkhead face first.

It was no wonder Megatron had given him a head injury carrying him in here. In was a miracle he'd even seen the doorway.

"You shouldn't do anything rash," Optimus told him, tripping on another loose piece of decking as he hurried to keep up.

"When have you ever known me to act rashly?!" Megatron demanded.

 _All the time?!_ Optimus decided not to say out loud. He'd done enough damage.

And it was about to become worse, he noted, when Megatron brought him to the _Nemesis's_ exit tower. Soundwave was waiting there. At his pedes, sat Ravage. Soundwave's face was hidden from view, but having shielded his own expression behind a battle-mask for the better part of four million years, Optimus knew a disturbed mech when he saw one.

And Soundwave was very disturbed.

"Step aside." Megatron barked using a tone Optimus didn't think he'd ever head Megatron use with his loyal Third before. Starscream? Yes, all the time. But never Soundwave.

"Lord Megatron-"

"I said move." Megatron carelessly struck out to knock Soundwave aside.

The tape-deck managed to stumble back before the blow could connect. Between his legs Ravage hissed angrily, armour over his upper back and shoulder's flaring. Megatron ignored them both and pulled Optimus into the tower with him.

"Starscream-!" Soundwave tried one last time to stop Megatron, emotion saturating his vocaliser and straining it.

It did the trick. Megatron paused with his hand on the 'up' button. Optimus saw it shake before it clenched into a fist. Megatron exhaled harshly through his olfactory, like a taunted turbo-bull. " _What_?"

"Ravage has returned with new findings." Soundwave gestured to the cat below, with fangs bared, face wrinkled into a snarl. "Starscream is making arrangements with the Autobots to leave the sparkling with them."

Optimus kept his expression as blank as he could, optics staring ahead so they wouldn't meet Megatron's gaze when the warlord turned accusatory optics on him. He missed the liberty of private expression his mask had previously afforded him.

Megatron's jaw tensed and he gave a stiff nod. "I am going to deal with the situation."

Soundwave looked between Ravage still growling at his feet and his furious leader. "Starscream has started his emergence."

Megatron's fist on Optimus's cuffs tightened with a creak. He didn't say anything further and punched the up button, effectively ending the conversation with his officer when the doors shut. The tower began to rise towards the surface. Just him and Megatron in a dark, confined space that smelt like seaweed and rust.

Once again Optimus's thoughts drifted to where they might going, and more importantly why Megatron was bringing no reinforcements. Perhaps he planned to kill him in revenge, dump his frame out at sea, somewhere no one would ever find it. Perhaps he was going to make one last attempt at a hostage exchange, in person this time?

Or, perhaps he was simply going to storm the base alone and get himself killed in the process.

"Starscream is frightened, but he wants to keep the sparkling." Optimus spoke into the stifling silence of the tower. "He needs you alive to help him raise it."

There was no change in Megatron's stony expression. "Shut up, Prime."

Whatever decision he had made, he was sticking to it. Optimus just had to hope it was a sensible one, if not for Starscream's sake, then the sparkling's.

 

* * *

 

Thundercracker's assessment of Skywarp's excitement levels had been accurate. Ten minutes after making the call to have him brought up, a purple blur came barrelling into the medbay, knocking into tables and sending equipment flying.

"Grab him!" Ratchet shouted to anyone who was listening before the idiot could fling himself at Starscream and undo all their hard work trying to relax him.

It was Skywarp's own trine-mate, Thundercracker, who intervened fastest, grabbing Skywarp about the middle and spinning him around before he could make a dive for Starscream's berth. Skywarp struggled like he thought he was being apprehended by an Autobot guard, trying to bite Thundercracker's hand. He kicked out and something nearby smashed.

Ratchet started massaging his temples as the drumming sensation behind his optics grew

"-just -just calm down-!"

"I _was_ calm till you grabbed me!"

"You were going to jump on him!"

Starscream was doing nothing to control his trine, laid in the berth and looking at the struggling seekers like he regretted ever meeting them.

"Only calm visitors are allowed a ringside seat." Ratchet barked, watching Skywarp try to wiggle out of Thundercracker's arms.

"I'm calm, _I'm calm_!" Skywarp kicked his legs. "I just wanted a hug, is all. Screamer, tell them I'm calm."

Starscream -exhausted, in pain, completely fed up- made a vague noise than could have meant anything. Thundercracker slowly unwrapped his arms from Skywarp with a murmur of, "Be gentle."

"I'm always gentle." Skywarp muttered back grumpily, tip toeing to the other side of the berth. "Hey Screamer."

Starscream grimaced when he bent low, turning his head away. "Why are you all gross and out of breath?!"

"Ran here." Skywarp smiled breathlessly. "I wasn't gonna miss this."

"Joy." Starscream sneered into his pillow.

Skywarp clapped his cuffed hands together, looking around at medbay. "So, you having this sparkling or what?"

Starscream's gaze darkened. "I'm trying. It doesn't seem to be in any rush to get out."

"These things take time." Ratchet reminded him. Then pointed at Skywarp, "You. Sit down."

"I don't take orders from Auto-scum."

"Yes you do." Starscream glared.

"Sit _down_ ," Ratchet repeated with a wave of a wrench, "Shut up. And stroke his wing."

Skywarp did two of those things, plonking himself down and reaching for his trine-leader. "I thought I was here for moral support, not to be his masseuse."

Ratchet stared, astounded by his inability to do as he was told. "What part of 'quiet' don't you understand?"

"It'd be easier to massage him without these on, ya know." Skywarp lifted his wrists and jangled his cuffs.

Ratchet was about to threaten to have him sent down to the brig again for being an unnecessary disturbance and detrimental to Starscream's stress levels. But as he opened his mouth to do it, he glanced at his patient. Despite Skywarp's constant chatter, Starscream was laid back with dim optics, his intakes slow and even. He looked calmer and more relaxed than he had in _weeks_.

Ratchet looked between the trine on either side of him, wondering if it had more to do with their bond than it did their actions, or clumsy attempts at wing massages. Starscream's brow creased, a leg twitching. "Something feels different." He mumbled.

Ratchet came forward with his scanner, taking a quick internal picture. The blurry shape that was the sparkling protoform on the scan was no longer a bipedal shape, but a tightly wound ball.

"Well," he sighed, amazed that bringing Skywarp up had actually worked, seeing as he was the least soothing presence imaginable. "You're ready."

"Ready?" Thundercracker's optics flashed.

"Ready?" Skywarp bounced eagerly.

"Ready?" Silverbolt's voice squeaked from behind the pillow he had been using to take cover. Having failed to notice his presence, Skywarp looked around for the source of it, staring at the ceiling in bewilderment.

"Ugh," said Starscream, unhappy whatever was happening.

Ratchet moved around to the end of the berth, dropping the datafiles he had been studying to the messy equipment table Skywarp had previously barrelled into. "Better get that panel open Starscream."

Silverbolt made a mournful noise.

Starscream ignored the immature mechling, shaking his head with a mildly constipated frown pulling at his features. "No, it's no where _near_ ready to come o-ahh!"

Starscream curled forward before he could finish the sentence, knocking Skywarp and Thundercracker away from his wings. After a few steady breaths, he slumped back to the berth with a pout. There was a click shortly after as he released his panel.

Skywarp tilted to the side to look, but Thundercracker slapped him back.

"I just wanted to see-"

"I know what you wanted to see."

"Pain meds." Starscream whined, ignoring his trine. "Ratchet! Meds!"

"You've already have them."

"I need more. Stronger ones."

"If you have too much you won't know when to push."

"So?!"

"You _have_ to push. It's not going to just fall out of you."

"I think I know that!" Starscream yelled back, and from the clench of his armour and hiss of hydraulics, he was suffering through another contraction. And somehow, was yelling through it. "Of course it's not going to fall out, it's huge! It feels like it's going to rip me in two! That's why I need pain meds!"

"Don't forget to breathe, Screamer." Skywarp reminded him cheerfully.

Starscream turned his head and glowered.

"Please, can I leave?" Silverbolt stuck his head out above the pillow, then ducked down quickly, scared something was going to jump out at him. "I want to see the sparkling, Ratch, but not until... it's already out."

Silverbolt had been tortured enough, and Ratchet was already outnumbered by stupid fliers four to one. He gave the Aerialbot a little nod. "Alright, you can go. But stay off your feet. No flying."

Silverbolt fled from the room at high speed. Undoubtably, whoever Ironhide hadn't already told about Starscream going into an emergence, Silverbolt would tell the rest. Hopefully he'd also share the trauma of it, and dissuade anymore idiots from getting themselves sparked.

He glanced at the door Silverbolt had shot through. Soon there'd be a gathered crowd outside, all vying for a chance to hold the first new-spark they will have seen in a great many years. None of them would dare cross the threshold into the medbay though, not at the risk of walking into something they weren't prepared to have engrained in their minds eye till the end of time.

Warriors didn't know much about emergences, but they knew enough to know it was a messy unpleasant business. It was really only a 'miracle of life' to the expectant parents.

"Why... Why do I feel wet?" Starscream suddenly asked, panting after bracing through another contraction. "Am I bleeding?"

And back to that 'messy' point.

"No," Ratchet glanced, "You've sprung a leak."

Skywarp snorted. Again, Thundercracker slapped him.

Starscream's optics flared with embarrassment, "I've _what_?!"

"It happens," Ratchet shrugged, but refrained from adding that it only got worse from here. Starscream's frame was about to rearrange itself and transform from the inside to get that sparkling out. By any means necessary. The process would disturb just about every single one of Starscream's internal parts. It would knock his fuel tank, and split apart his hip struts. It would push, and twist, and tear it's way out of Starscream however it could.

And with any hope, it would get out.

"You're fine." He praised, managing a smile in Starscream's direction.

Starscream let his helm drop back to the pillow. He didn't smile back.

 

* * *

 

They were a mile outside the _Ark's_ security perimeters and still Megatron hadn't spoken. Optimus was not only concerned for his continued survival, but Megatron's state of mind. If Starscream had gone into the emergence, he could hardly be cuffed and brought outside for a lengthy, tense hostage exchange.

And Optimus would never forgive any Autobot that saw no problem with such an act.

"What are you thinking?" Optimus asked him, trying to slow their pace. Megatron gave a tug on his cuffs, yanking him along. "Megatron, please. If what your own mechs say is true, you can't expect them to drag Starscream out for a hostage exchange in the middle of-"

Megatron stopped. "I'm not."

Optimus blinked, now even more lost.

Megatron was looking off into the distance, towards the volcano that housed the _Ark_ , conflicted. Optimus looked past the ever-present scowl and saw the turmoiling emotions swirling about his optics, fear, longing, regret...

The marks of a mech about to do something stupid.

Optimus gentled his expression, silently urging him to say something, anything, to give him some indication of whatever disasterous actions he had planned. For once, he wanted Megatron to monologue at him.

But he didn't, and to confuse Optimus further, drew the key for the cuffs out of his subspace. Optimus raised his restrains instinctively, watching in amazement as Megatron deactivated them and let them clatter to the red dust. Optimus rubbed his bared wrists, watching Megatron scoop the discarded cuffs off the ground.

"Are you going to kill me?" He asked when Megatron took a step back and lifted the arm welding his fusion cannon.

"No," he grumbled without pause, and undid the latch attaching the barrel to his arm. It fell to the ground with a heavy thunk and puff of dust. When Optimus was still busy staring, he tossed the cuffs back at him and kicked the cannon away with his foot.

Optimus caught the cuffs with a fumble.

"Well," Megatron stood there, disarmed, wrists extended. "What are you waiting for Autobot. Arrest me."

Oh, Optimus thought. He certainly hadn't expected that.

 

* * *

 

Thundercracker was sat with his chin propped on his fist, looking bored, and Skywarp was twiddling his thumbs. Between them, Starscream was staring at the ceiling, muttering curses under his breath.

Ratchet left them too it, looking up worse case scenarios in past cases of seeker gestation complications. Not because he was a pessimist, but it always payed to be prepared. He didn't have a lot of information at hand, because they didn't have any seekers in their ranks for which the information would have been necessary.

He looked up when there was sudden silence. Starscream had stopped cursing.

Thundercracker had straightened as well, realising something wasn't right. "Hey," he began, reaching for Starscream's hand.

It was torn away with a harsh, strained hiss off, "Don't touch me-!"

A tense minute passed, and Starscream frame hissed with a release of pressure and snarling curses. Ratchet checked his chrono. The contractions were getting longer, and more frequent. Every five minutes now.

"Weird that you're not screaming." Skywarp commented. "Usually that's all you do, and now that you're in a situation where it's actually socially acceptable to scream-"

Starscream bared his denta. "Shut- _up_!"

"The medbay's sound proof." Ratchet offered the littlest of white lies. "No one would hear-"

"I said shut up! I'm trying to concentrate."

"How much concentration do you need?" Skywarp mumbled, and tilted his head again to take a look down there to see if anything was actually happening. "All you're doing is pushing."

Ratchet was about to make threats to have Skywarp removed and stuck back down in the brig to miss everything if he didn't stop deliberately irritating his patient, _again_ , when someone distracted him by pinging his comm. He'd left it on Do Not Disturb for a reason. He sent back a busy tone. Whatever the problem, Prowl could deal with it. He was needed here.

He was pinged again.

With a resentful grumble and a quick check of Starscream's readings, which were within the acceptable parameters, he turned his back and answered the comm.

"I'm trying to deliver a sparkling here!" He barked, "You'd better have a good reason for disturbing me or you're coming down here to help. What do you want?!"

" _It's Prime_ ," Jazz's voice answered. " _He's back_."

"Back?" Ratchet dropped his voice, glancing back at the seekers, but they were all too preoccupied with Starscream's latest contraction. "He escaped?"

" _Lookin like it. And took Megs prisoner to boot. They're inside the security perimeter now. Prowl thinks it's a trap_ -"

"It probably is a trap." Ratchet agreed. "Let him handle it. Why are you comm'ing me?"

"' _cause Prime's insisting it ain't a trap. And now Hide's at logger heads with Prowler, and Prime's saying he needs 'immediate medial assistance'_ -"

Ratchet's spark twisted unpleasantly. He looked at Starscream again as the exhausted seeker weathered another contraction in stubborn silence. "What?"

" _Say's Megs is injured_ -"

"Megatron is _not_ coming into this medbay." Ratchet snarled, moving further away from Starscream so he wouldn't hear. "He's not stepping foot in here, you hear me. I don't care what Optimus says, leave him outside to die if it's that serious-"

" _That's the thing, Ratch'_ ," Jazz murmured quietly, conspiratorially. " _Megs don't look injured. I think Prime's upta' something-"_

"I don't want to hear whatever deranged idea Megatron's talked him into. They're as bad as each other."

" _But Ratch_ -"

"If Prime makes it back inside alive, tell him I'll shoot Megatron myself before letting him near my patient!"

He hung up, hoping Jazz took his words seriously.

When he turned back to the berth, Thundercracker was watching him, frowning. "Things okay?"

"Peachy." Ratchet growled, moving back to the berth. "Let's see if we can't get things moving a little quicker, shall we?"

Starscream's head rolled on the pillow. "Finally."

 

* * *

 

Optimus would have been ashamed if his mechs had simply stood aside and allowed Megatron entry into their base. As it was, he couldn't help but feel some measure of exasperation at Prowl's complete lack of trust in him.

"I am not under mind control." He confirmed. Beside him, an impatient, but cuffed Megatron shifted his footing. Optimus tightened his grip on his forearm, lest he make any mad dashes for the entrance.

"This is ridiculous." Megatron muttered unhelpfully. All it earned him was a jab in the side of the helm with the butt of a blaster, courtesy of Ironhide.

"I'd shut yer mouth if I were ya."

Megatron bared clenched denta.

"Megatron is not injured." Prowl remained cool and collected, looking their enemy up and down.

"I'm taking him to the medbay regardless." Optimus pressed.

"So he can retake his command trine, cripple our best medic, and murder our mechs in the escape he has planned." Prowl nodded. "I cannot allow it."

"Prowl," Optimus breathed, persevering even if reasoning with him was like talking to a brick wall. "This is a complicated situation-"

"Only because you have made it so. Ironhide, take Megatron to the brig. Jazz, have Prime inspected for malware."  
  
Ironhide made to take Megatron, but the warlord lurched away, swinging his cuffed hands out of reach. There was a chorus of clicks as dozens of guns lifted. Optimus held up his hand. Only a few lowered. "Megatron surrendered himself willingly-"

"All the more suspicious." Prowl wasn't swayed.

But Ironhide was hesitating, "Maybe we should wait-"

"This cannot wait." Optimus shook his helm. "Starscream has gone into the emergence-"

Ironhide's optics brightened with surprise. "How'd you know that?"

"Because it's my fragging sparkling!" Megatron barked before Optimus could speak.

A long stifling silence ensued. Even the birds in the nearby trees had stopped singing. It was only broken when someone, who sounded distinctly like Sideswipe, loudly lamented, "Boy, did I not see _that_ coming."

Ironhide's weapon lowered with an awkward twitch. "Aw, Pit."

Optimus took a breath, stepping past him and closer to Prowl, speaking quietly in an attempt to keep _some_ of this situation private from prying audials. "Should Starscream go through with his plans to give his sparkling up-"

"He won't." Megatron heard and butted in, shouldering past Ironhide, strong even hindered. "Over my empty husk is my young being left with Autobots-!"

" _You_ , are _not_ helping." Optimus flashed him a look, but Megatron barged forward anyway. Cliffjumper broke formation to throw himself at Megatron's leg in a fruitless attempt to help the struggling Ironhide.

"I don't need your help!" Megatron was bellowing. 

"I'm no more pleased with the sudden surplus in Decepticon residents than you, Prowl." Optimus continued, ignoring the ongoing struggle behind him. "But Megatron has assured me he can sort this whole mess out, and when Soundwave arranges a deal to have Megatron freed, which he will, he'll be taking them with him. Sparkling and all."

Prowl's face twisted, like he wasn't happy, but was considering it.  
  
"We're wasting time-" Megatron hissed, hopping on the spot to kick Cliffjumper off.

"Hey, Prowler, man," Jazz, as was typical of him, appeared at Prowl's side out of nowhere. "He's unarmed, restrained, and Prime's not crazy. I think. What's the worst that can happen from letting him patch things up with Screamer and see his bitlet?"

"That it's revealed to be a trap." Prowl was still stubborn.

"Yeah," Jazz agreed, "and if it is? I have it on good authority Ratchet won't mind taking one for the team in taking him out."

Megatron snorted, like he thought the medic was no match for him. But as Prowl's resolve finally softened with the reassurance that the worst case scenario here was that Megatron ended up dead, Optimus began to worry.

What _was_ going to happen when Ratchet refused Megatron entry into the medbay? Because he would.

Prowl stepped aside, gesturing for the gathered Autobots behind to do the same, clearing the way for Optimus to enter the base with his prisoner. He reached back for Megatron's forearm, but the Decepticon was already striding on ahead without a care, helm held high and nose in the air, ignoring the sneers and scowls of the enemies either side of him. Optimus moved quickly to catch him and take the lead.

"Let me do the talking." He suggested. "Ratchet is not your biggest fan."

"You deal with the medic." Megatron snapped, glancing left and right when they met a split in the corridor. Optimus went left, and Megatron quickened his strides to get out ahead of him again, "He is beneath my notice. My problem is with Starscream."

"No." Optimus _started_ to race him as their strides quickened. "You're not going to barge in there and start a scene-"

"Don't presume to tell me now to deal with my soldiers."

But Starscream wasn't Megatron's soldier today. As far as Optimus could tell this was entirely a personal matter, about a personal relationship. A relationship Megatron seemed to have plans to go in there and nuke, all while the poor seeker was trying to have a spark emergence.

They'd reached the floor for the medbay, and Megatron still hadn't shown any signs of collecting himself and calming down.

"Megatron!" he tried one last time, and they were sprinting now Megatron had seen signs for the medbay. "Compose yourself!"

Megatron skidded in front of the medbay doors, jabbing at the access panel. The doors swept open, and by then it was really too late for Optimus to do anything more. 

 


	14. Chapter 14

  
Well, Optimus thought, watching Megatron freeze in the doorway, optics blown cartoonishly wide and face drained of all colour as broken cry of pain spilled out, they had certainly timed that well.

Optimus reached the doorway just as Megatron took a hesitant step back, bluster evaporating. His retreat was scuppered when his movement drew Ratchet's attention from across the room. The medic was quite obviously busy, but the moment he saw Megatron in his medbay, optics flashed white, armour flaring aggressively. " _You_."

"Ratchet!" Optimus hurried to put himself between the Decepticon and his medic before anything could be thrown. "Wait-"

"You're fragging lucky I have my hands busy," Ratchet hissed, gaze snapping between them in the doorway and his screaming patient's tensing frame under his bloodied hands. Optimus didn't care to look any closer. "Get that maniac out of here!"

Optimus couldn't if he tried. Megatron was stiff, a cast iron statue stuck in the doorway, like someone had emptied his head and scooped out his spark and left just the shell. Optimus shoved him over the threshold so the doors could shut behind them and cut off the breeze. Starscream's cries were louder.

Ratchet looked up at the sound of the closing door, optics wild. "What did I _just_ -!"

Starscream shouted, and Ratchet refocused on what really needed his attention now, gruff words of encouragement lost amongst whatever else was being said by the trine gathered closely around the seeker. All Optimus could see of Starscream was his right thruster as it lifted to brace against Ratchet's broad shoulder, the armour of his calf locking and releasing as every gear and strut and piston powered through.

The cry finally tapered off and Thundercracker shifted, revealing Starscream in all his dishevelled glory. He was looking far from his best; optics dim, vents thrown open, face dripping with condensed steam. His head lolled to the side, mouth open wide and gasping for the air his vents couldn't seem to suck in. His optics tracked over to them in the doorway.

And focused with clarity on Megatron. 

Starscream made a noise so unlike anything Optimus would have expected, A short, overwhelmed gasp that might have been a sob. His hand untangled itself from Thundercracker's to grasp at the space between him and Megatron.

Megatron stood there like an idiot until Optimus, despairing of him and too invested in this situation to just do _nothing_ , gave him a nudge. Megatron blinked, and life slowly returned to the grey mech. Cautious steps carried him across the room, heedless of Ratchet's warning glares. Thundercracker moved aside so his commander could take his place.

Ratchet looked murderous, but to his credit, refrained from making any comment when Megatron took Starscream's shaking hand, enveloping slender digits in his own.

There was something profoundly peaceful to it, the way they looked at one another. Megatron lost for words and Starscream too exhausted to speak.

Then another contraction came, and the spell was broken. Starscream bore down, curling forward with a fierce hiss. Megatron's optics flared with alarm when a _crunch_ sounded out. He made a noticeable attempt to free what were likely broken digits from Starscream's grasp.

" _You_ -" Starscream huffed through the last of it, heaving with pain and fury. He wretched his other hand free from Skywarp and dug it into Megatron's chest, sinking his claws in. "You did this to me-!"

Optimus didn't miss the smirk Ratchet wore as Megatron tried futilely to get the claws out of his chest, his cuffed hands hindering his ability to defend himself. Another contraction had Starscream swearing, claws dragging down. Bright blue energon began to blossom through Megatron's pierced armour.

"Screamer!" Skywarp, ever the loyalist, leant over to help extract his trine mate from his leader, but Ratchet's bark of "Leave him!" quickly forced him back into his seat. Megatron could weather a light stabbing if that's what Starscream needed to get through this.

Optimus kept back. He would have liked to step out entirely and give Starscream some privacy, but leaving Ratchet alone in a room with _four_ Decepticons was ill advised. They might be unarmed, but Optimus and seen more creative attacks.

He leant on the bulkhead beside the door, dulling his audials when Starscream _roared_ and shook the cabinets. Megatron lifted the hand currently breaking his fingers to his mouth in what might have been a kiss.

 

* * *

 

Hot air thundered out of Starscream's vents, drenching Megatron in heat. The hand gripping his was clammy and damp and far stronger than Megatron had ever imagined Starscream being capable of. The pinch of claws in his chest soon become ignorable as Starscream continued to pant and whimper defeatedly between contractions.

He swallowed dryly, lost for words and actions. He wanted to ask _why_ , he wanted to ask _how_. He wanted to ask a hundred things he should have had the sense to ask earlier. He remembered Starscream breaking away from him in the flight hanger before the raid, weeks ago now, furious and bitter, and so damn stubborn Megatron had been thankful when he'd heard after that Starscream had been captured.

He supposed he'd wanted to punish Starscream for rejecting him. And here it seemed Starscream had wanted to punish him for thinking he had ever had the right to claim him in the first place.

And some otherworldly force was punishing them both now, by bringing them together again at the eleventh hour, when it was the least practical time imaginable for them to have an argument over everything.

There would be time to scream at each other later, he thought, and glanced down to see the medic holding a scalpel. He quickly looked away. Yes, much later. After Starscream had been stitched back together again.

"Almost there, Screamer." Skywarp, who had no qualms about joining Ratchet down the end of the berth, announced.

Almost there. Beyond the sheer carnage of what was going on down there, Megatron could see grey armour, smeared blue with fluids, but the same grey as his own forearm. He looked between it and himself, suddenly struck with the realisation that it was going to look like _him_ , because he had made it.

Granted, Starscream had put some work into it as well...

"Last one." Ratchet promised, but he had been making that promise since Megatron had arrived and Primus knew for how long before that. Starscream didn't comment on the lies, nodding, half-blind with exhaustion, as the last contraction began to twist and shake his frame.

His cry crescendoed, then broke off with a choked noise when finally-

Ratchet moved quickly, a soft white human bath-towel and jump cables in hand. Starscream's hand was squeezing Megatron's for a whole different reason now as he tried to see down himself and steal a glance. It was eerily silent, nothing but the slip of fabric against new metal to break it. There was a zap, a surging whir, then a pathetic warbling cry rang out.

Thundercracker's and Skywarp wings dropped in relief. Megatron's own chest was hollow when Ratchet straightened with the towel clad sparkling, and lowered it to Starscream's chest.

Just the top of a grey and red helm was visible. Megatron nudged the fabric aside, touch as gentle as he could manage. Optics were shuttered but shared the shape of Starscream's. A little mouth closed over the towel and tried to suck.

Starscream carefully pulled it away, tutting, voice hoarse from screaming, "Stupid little thing."

"Takes after you." Megatron said instinctively. Starscream opened his mouth to snip back, but in the distraction of meeting his son, Megatron had forgotten about the enemy in the room.

The jump cables Ratchet had used to jolt the sparkling into consciousness met with the centre of his back and electrocuted him.

He jumped with a yell.

The sparkling started to cry, vocaliser weak and stuttering, tiny legs kicking against the prison of fabric he was swaddled in.

"Megatron!" Starscream snapped, like it was his fault for getting electrocuted.

Megatron turned on the medic, who was unrepentant and poised to jab him again. "That," he growled. "Was a mistake."

Before he could seek vengeance -or more likely get himself electrocuted a second time- Optimus Prime was there again, forever inserting himself into situations that didn't concern him.

"Your son." Was all Prime needed to say to remind him to cool off from the burn of frustration rushing through his circuits. And he was right. Starscream, weak from the emergence, was making pathetic attempts to soothe their new-spark, his optics half shuttered with exhaustion.

Megatron ignored Prime and the medic and closed his hands around the tiny bundle. And after a brief wordless moment, Starscream relinquished the sparkling, watching wistfully when Megatron lifted the little one to his chest, holding him for the first time. He was small, so dreadfully small. Megatron pushed the fabric away from his head to get a closer, clearer look at the round little face. He had dark facial plating like Starscream, a button nose, and the helm was smooth but appeared to be panelled, almost like-

He brushed his digits over them, and like a blossoming flower, the panels began to rise, curling forwards and lifting away from the helm to form the tiniest sensory crown he'd ever seen.

"I knew it." He heard Starscream croak. "A freak."

Megatron whirled, finding Starsceram watching lazily from the pillow. "My son is _not_ a freak."

"Have you seen it's helm?!"

"That is... er, different." Thundercracker added diplomatically.

They were oblivious, but the medic appeared to know better, peering around a perplexed Prime to smirk. "I always wondered what you were hiding beneath that bucket, Megatron."

"What?" Starscream was looking between them, suddenly more awake. "Wait. That thing on your head comes off?!"

"Enough." Megatron hissed through his denta. "I won't hear another word against my son. Least of all from you." He pinned Starscream with a withering glare. "Don't you think you've caused enough trouble?"

"Me?!" Starscream's optics brightened. " _I've_ caused the trouble?!"

"I know you're not starting a fight with _my_ patient in _my_ medbay." Ratchet took step forward, jump cable at the ready. Prime quickly worked to disarm him, almost getting electrocuted himself.

Megatron ignored them, stroking a careful hand over his sparkling's sensory panels to brush them flat again. Despite his efforts, they sprung back up again. He'd need to find the little one a helmet of sorts, or else he'd forever be getting headaches.

"Perhaps it would be best if we all gave the new parents a moment alone." Prime suggested having won the fight over the jump cables. It was the only thing Megatron had heard him say today that made sense.

"Like pit!" The medic predictably objected. "We're not leaving the mayor of crazy town alone with a new-spark and carrier that can't defend themselves-"

Megatron did not like what he was implying. He covered his sparkling's audials against the harsh tone he used, "Careful what you _insinuate_ , medic-"

Having lost his previous weapon, Ratchet pulled a wrench out of nowhere and waved it, "Then I'll tell you what I think _plainly_ , shall I-!"

"No." A scratchy voice interrupted. Starscream was pushing himself into a seated position on the berth, a drained, but determined frown on his face. "I want to speak with him."

For reasons unknown to sentient beings everywhere, the medic lowered his wrench with a reluctant nod of agreement. He threw Megatron one last glower before backing off. "Call if you need me." He told Starscream.

Prime herded Starscream's equally reluctant trine out of the room after him, flashing worried looks like he was second guessing his decision to leave them alone together. Megatron wondered what he had done to put so little faith in everyone.

As if he could harm a new-spark. As if he could do anymore than shout at Starscream for all the stupid decisions they'd both made as of late.

He dropped into the chair beside Starscream, once again struggling to push back his sparkling's overactive sensory panels.

"We need to talk." Starscream said the four most ominous words in existence.

Megatron held his sparkling closer, hoping what little he had left wasn't about to be taken away.

 

* * *

 

Megatron held their sparkling like parental programming was in his very coding, easily cupping the tiny frame in one arm. A big thumb was distractedly sliding up and down the little arm that had broken free of the swaddle and was making great efforts to try and reach his sire's face.

"What have they done to you?" Megatron finally asked, optics passing over him curiously.

He was looking at Starscream's body, or more accurately, his waistline. Starscream felt self-conscious and indignant, grabbing the sheets from a nearby berth and dragging them across himself. "Nothing. This was your doing."

Megatron looked perplexed.

"Well." Starscream amended, nodding at the sparkling. "His doing. But still yours. If he wasn't so big-"

"He's minuscule." Megatron protested.

"He _wasn't_ when he was _inside_ me." Starscream growled, gesturing between the size of his waist and the size of the sparkling. The new-spark may look small now, especially cradled in Megatron's colossal arms, but Starscream was feeling the burn of the stretch. And would be for some time to come.

"You want to give him away." Megatron abruptly changed the subject.

Starscream kept his gaze down. He couldn't bear to look at Megatron, or the new-spark. The time to make this decision he had been suffering over for weeks now had finally arrived. "You want to keep him."

"He is my son."

Why was it so simple for Megatron to claim things? Wasn't he troubled by the same questions, same fears that he wouldn't measure up? Starscream found the strength to glance at Megatron again; the ease with which he held their shifting sparkling, the peaceful expression on his face when he looked down at the little scrap. But of course, Starscream realised with a despairing slump, Megatron had never failed at anything. He had no reason to believe he wouldn't be the best sire this sparkling could ask for.

"I'm no creator."

Megatron scoffed softly, "No, I suppose you aren't."

"Thanks." He spat, feeling doubly miserable.

"You honestly think leaving him here would be best for him?" Megatron questioned, looking around the medbay, "Surrounded by orange walls and Autobots? Poor thing."

"Better than drowning in some flood in the Nemesis."

"If that is the problem-"

"No, that's just _one_ problem." Starscream snapped. "I'm not going to be suddenly overcome with parental instincts and retire. Who's going to look after him? Fuel him? Sit up with him all night? What happens if one of us is killed? Both of us? Who will raise him then? This a war-"

"You have two trine mates, and I have hundreds of loyal followers-"

Starscream snorted.

"This sparkling will have no shortage of caregivers. Whether you want to raise him or not, he belongs in the Nemesis. Not here, away from everything he is and should know." Megatron exhaled wearily. "They know he is my son. It is not safe for him here."

"Oh, they're _Autobots_." Starscream sniffed. "I hardly think-"

"It only takes one lunatic," Megatron snapped, tucking the sparkling closer. "One extremist to see him not as a sparkling, but as an extension of their enemy. As me."

Starscream looked away, feeling nauseous. "I just want what's best for him."

"And we're not?" Megatron snapped.

"We can't go five minutes without trying to kill one another! Of course we're not!"

Megatron fell silent, scowling, nothing but the soft noise of a curious sparkling testing his vocaliser to fill the empty void. "He has your claws."

Starscream looked around. Tiny red claws had closed around Megatron's pinky, holding tight. There were indeed his claws. And his optics. He made a abortive move to take the sparkling back. Then thought better of it, telling himself not to get attached. Not to fall into that trap.

Megatron wasn't letting him off so easily, and began to pass him over anyway. Starscream flashed him a glare, but as soon as his son was in his arms the new-spark made an excited noise, trying to free himself from his swaddled prison with much more enthusiasm, all to be closer to his creator.

Starscream felt something inside him crack and ooze out, filling him with soft, warm _disgusting_ feelings. Stupid, fragging _protocols_. 

Megatron's hand found the back of his neck, then his mouth was against the side of his head. "What are you going to name him?"

Words caught in Starscream's throat. He had stubbornly refused to even think of a designation.

"This looks like a sun," he murmured, running a digit over a raised sensory panel, noting the strike of crimson colour cutting through the grey. "Sunblaze."

Megatron settled a hand over his, thumb brushing over warm armour. "That's a seeker name." He murmured.

"He's half seeker." Starscream protested.

"He doesn't have wings-"

"Do you want me to keep the sparkling or not?"

He felt Megatron's smile against his armour. "Sunblaze." He agreed. "An excellent choice."

 

* * *

 

Ratchet watched Starscream tentatively lower himself to the floor beside the human bathtub (generously donated to them by the Witwicky's), Sunblaze's wiggling body in hand. He dipped his hand into the water and gave Starscream a nod, happy with the temperature.

Sunblaze wasn't strong enough to sit himself upright, so Ratchet showed Starscream how to hold him and wash him at the same time. It was a task that seemed to require practice, because the little brat insisted on kicking and flailing as much as was physically possible for his tiny limbs, attacking the bubbles and toys with all the killer instinct of the parents that had made him. 

Splashed more times than either of them could count, Starscream blinked water from his optics and preserved. Ratchet felt the pride in him swell.

"And to think you had the nerve to tell me you weren't going be any good at this."

Starscream scowled, getting splashed again. Water dripped off his nose and Sunblaze _shrieked_ when a plastic duck bobbed back to the surface. "Our definitions of 'good' seem to differ greatly."

"You're doing better than most." Ratchet growled. "Juggling a new-spark and repairs all while this one's useless sire spends all day sat on his aft."

"He's in a cell." Starscream glared, and Ratchet noted not a small amount of resentment to his tone. _Oh_ , perhaps things had started to warm up between them? "If he was allowed to be here-"

Sunblaze kicked, and half the tub's contents flew out and caught them both in the face. "Definitely a Decepticon." Ratchet muttered.

Starscream began to lift the sparkling out, and pedal kicking legs once again flicked water everywhere. Ratchet came forward with a human bath-towel and wrapped the little nuisance up in a burrito. Sunblaze squealed.

"He's only acting out because he misses his sire." Starscream sniffed, bringing Sunblaze close to coo at him.

Ratchet's optics wanted to roll into the back of his head. "First of all. He isn't 'acting out' because he's a week old and doesn't know how to behave in the first place. And secondly, Starscream, your _feelings_ are starting to show."

Starscream looked aghast. "They are not."

"These past couple days it's been nothing but _Megatron this_ , _Megatron that_ -"

"He's the sire of my sparkling."

"And that little snippet of information you suddenly can't stop sharing. Would have loved you being this open about it a few weeks ago." Ratchet shook his head, despairing but, oddly enough, grateful. Megatron was a complete lunatic, but Starscream was happy with him. To each their own, he supposed.

"He's always been good with words, you old bucket-head." He added resentfully. "Makes me wonder what he said to get you back on side?"

"He didn't say anything." Starscream muttered. "I just-" he looked down at Sunblaze's little face staring up at him between the folds in the towel. "I... changed my mind."

Ratchet watched the smile flicker across Starscream's face. Honestly, he was just grateful an innocent sparkling wasn't going be separated from his creator after all.

"I'll speak to Prime about seeing if visiting hours are open down in the brig." He sighed, lifting his comm. "And if there's an age limit for visitors."

Optimus was a soft touch, so of course ten minutes later Ratchet was helping his patient down the steps to the brig. Starscream winced every few steps, recent welds pulling at the motion. Despite the inconvenience of the repairs, Starscream seemed pleased to be back to his usual shape and size. He wouldn't be able to fly for a few more weeks yet. But when he did, he'd been good as new, back too shooting down Ratchet's comrades like siting ducks.

Joy.

Thundercracker and Skywarp received a quick visit on the way, both of them reaching carefully through the energy bars to touch Sunblaze and accost him with indulgent baby-speak. Worried they were going to electrocute themselves, and the sparkling, Starscream drew back, telling them they could reacquaint themselves with the sparkling properly once they were free.

Optimus had moved Megatron into a less secure standard steel bar cell. For the purposes of safety Ratchet assumed, because no mech in their right mind could expect Megatron to refrain from touching his sparkling through the bars.

Ratchet stayed back, watching from a distance when a smile broke Starscream's face and Sunblaze's squeals echoed about the brig. He could hear Megatron's low rumble, but couldn't make out the words. Starscream pressed himself close to the bars, leaning against them. Sunblaze's tiny hands grabbed at Megatron's own. A big thumb swept over a soft cheek.

Then Starscream turned his head, and uncaring of the bars blocking them, shared a kiss with Megatron- a long, lingering, shifting kiss. Strange to see between two Decepticons. Stranger to witness from Megatron.

Ratchet would be disappointed if history repeated itself and in a few months time he had another unrepentantly pregnant Starscream at his medbay doors, but he wouldn't be surprised. Not with the way the two idiots were looking at each other.

He'd just have to hope little Sunblaze kept them busy enough to keep their hands off one another.

Starscream sighed loudly into the kiss, an exhibitionist at his core, and Ratchet sighed, knowing that was unlikely.

 

* * *

 

Starscream -disliked at best, resented by the masses- was suddenly very popular indeed. Upon reentering the _Nemesis_ after months of absence, he was flocked to- not just by seekers and mechs desperate for a glimpse of the sparkling, but those who respected Megatron _so much_ their adoration for him had leaked over to Starscream simply because he had borne their beloved leader an heir.

Starscream basked in it; the attention, the gifts, the help. The paperwork that had mounted up in his absence was quickly completed and filed away by sycophantic subordinates, the orders he gave carried out without question. Either no one wanted to be responsible for stressing an already overwhelmed new parent, or feared Megatron's retribution. It was more likely to be the latter, but Starscream wasn't about to sniff at it.

For the first few nights Sunblaze awkwardly alternated between their rooms, a night with Starscream and a night with Megatron, until after a week of pointless moving back and forth and dragging the endless sparkling supplies with them just seemed too ridiculous and Starscream climbed into Megatron's berth without much explanation beyond; "Shut up or I'll kick you out."

"It's my room," Megatron reminded him, folding arms around him and hugging him tight to his chest.

Sunblaze was in no way an easy sparkling. A constant screamer and an endlessly squirmer. Hook cited his frequent discomfort the result of his sensory crown, but he was still too young for a helmet like Megatron's. His neck wasn't strong enough to support something so heavy.

Other than the uncontrollable, everything else had proceeded without the disasters Starscream had feared. He wasn't alone, Sunblaze didn't appear to hate him, and his life hadn't been consumed by caretaking because he had so many willing to help, to do the dirty jobs. His trine watched the sparkling when he was in his lab. Soundwave watched him when he went out flying. Megatron watched him when he just needed a moments peace...

And Megatron was a good sire, he found. _Almost_ competent.

He did proclaim to have 'nearly' dropped Sunblaze over a dozen times now, citing squirming as the cause, and every time Starscream meticulously checked the sensory panels covering his sparkling's head for telling dents. There were none, but still.

"Clumsy oaf." He'd griped.

"This came." Megatron found him in the flight hanger with Sunblaze one evening, watching the seekers take off. "From the Autobots. Soundwave scanned it and says it's clean."

Flummoxed, Starscream took the small colourfully wrapped package, juggling Sunblaze against his chest as he ripped the ridiculous fire-engine themed paper off. What fell out and flopped to the decking was a bundle of knitted fabric. Megatron bent to pick it up. It was about half the size of gigantic palm.

"What is this?"

Starscream spied a note that had been inside the packaging. Recognising Ratchet's messy scrawl he picked it up, reading it.

_Carly made this. Not all humans are useless. Should fit that brat of yours._

Starscream took the knitwear from Megatron, studying it for a moment before carefully, awkwardly, pulling it over Sunblaze's panelled head. Trapped, the sensory panels were cushioned and unable to rise.

Megatron stared at his son. Sunblaze blinked back at him from beneath the rim of the fluffy grey fabric.

"He looks incredibly stupid."

"Doesn't he." Starscream agreed softly, smiling at Sunblaze's confused face. "But it looks better than your stupid bucket."

Megatron's olfactory flared.

"Why don't you take it off?" He suggested.

It was Megatron's optics that flared this time. "What?! My helmet? Here?"

Starscream quirked a brow. "You've never shown me."

"They're senstive."

"What do you imagine I'm going to do? Pull them off?"

"Possibly." Megatron frowned.

Starscream rolled his optics, focusing on adjusting Sunblaze's hat as he said, "Well, I don't know how you expect us to conjunx one another when you don't even _trust_ me..."

Megatron went still.

"...You don't want to conjunx me." He said, sounding much like he didn't want to get his own hopes up.

"No, I've always wanted to conjunx you." Starscream sniffed. "I just don't want to you telling me I have to."

Megatron stepped forward, hopeful and desperate. "So you-?"

Starscream stopped him with a hand on his chest, brow wriggling. "Helmet."

With a frustrated, undone sound, Megatron clenched his jaw and lifted hands to his helmet. Starscream watched in amazement as it came away, and sensory panels, much like Sunblaze's but large and embellished, began to rise.

Sunblaze squeaked and reached for his sire.

"Happy?"

"Very." Starscream purred, letting Megatron come to him now, take his hips and pull him close, mindful of the sparkling between them. "They look even stupider on you."

Megatron growled, and pulled him into a kiss. Starscream smiled, running his fingers up and over those delicate sensory panels. Between them, Sunblaze cooed happily.

And to think, he had thought they couldn't love one another...

 

 


End file.
